Co bych pro ni neudělal (The Things I Did for Her)
by slovakia-chan
Summary: When history gets personal. Male Czech Republic recounting his life with female Slovakia. I don't own Hetalia.
1. Chapter 1

_All Slavs are like cousins, but the Czechs and Slovaks are closer to each other than to anyone else. The language barrier between us is almost non-existent. We have history. And even though we're obviously not made to live with each other, our relationship is special. We're not cousins. We're brothers and sisters._

 _Story contains some violence and references to sex (nothing detailed) and historical facts, too._

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

 **PART 1**

 _Eva._

I can stay like this, lying on my bed, thinking of her until my last breath comes, tinged with her name. And it would be a good life.

You don't know what beauty is if you haven't met her.

You don't know what pain is if you haven't met me.

You don't know what love is if you're not aware of...

All the things I've seen.

All the things I've done.

All the things I've been through.

Some are good. Some stupid, some literally insane. Some painful. Some spine-chilling.

Some all at once.

And if needed, I would do it all over again. Every last one of them.

For _her._

* * *

Draw a circle. That's the Earth.

Now draw Europe (a bit more tricky!). Then, draw two lines, cutting it into halves horizontally and vertically. See where the lines cross? That's where our story begins. In the heart of Europe.

When? A crazy long time ago.

Why? The heart of Europe had come to life and finally started to beat.

So, what exactly is happening? Well, many were those who wanted the heart, because of its strategic position, natural resources and plenty other good reasons. But it wouldn't be conquered easily. Therefore, a large reward was promised to the one who would catch it. That is why plenty of lowlifes like me were currently hanging around the area, waiting to find their prey unprepared.

 _But who are you, the hero?_ you probably wonder. My name is Czechia. What am I like? You know what, read on and see for yourselves.

* * *

"I'm so fed up with this shit," I remember sighing, stretching out on the cold grass, lighting up my pipe.

You're probably imagining me as an old, bitter man. And that's how I felt inside, even though at that time, I had just turned fifteen.

Life wasn't exactly killing me with kindness. Even as a child, no one wanted me, no one cared for me. I had gone through all kinds of dirty jobs, seen and experienced things even adults should not. I knew what women tasted like and that they tasted differently if they weren't consenting. I knew what choking on my own blood felt like or what it felt like to make someone else choke on their own blood. I knew that most things were just skin deep; whether you were pretty, ugly, wise or stupid, rich or poor, young or old, black or white, you would make the same sound when someone tears your entrails out, you would rot in the ground just like anyone else.

I knew some others had it worse. But this just wasn't the life I wanted.

Thankfully, recently I'd found a way to deal with it, more or less. Well-built and not exactly a dimwit, either, I got hired as a mercenary and quickly became one of the best. I would cut, pierce, smother, strangle, seize, slay, maim and much more, sinking so deep into the frenzy that I forgot about how pointless my existence was.

Still, there were drawbacks. I would work in harsh conditions, always on the move, freezing my butt in icy rain or slowly melting in scorching heat. On the top of that, I had no idea what I would become the day I got maimed myself, unable to earn my wage anymore. So I was looking for a way to achieve a more stable situation.

When I heard all about that heart of Europe business, I knew I was meant for it. A comfortable, simple life of a rich man was now within my reach.

Except that the bitch just wouldn't show herself.

Yes, I knew she was female. I would hear her humming every single night, her voice and that teasing tune filling my dreams, stealing the sleep away.

I had been there for several weeks, observing, calculating, waiting. I liked challenges. And the longer I waited, the more determined I grew to catch her and do whatever I wanted with her.

The thing was, the bitch kept hiding in the forest. It was her home, she knew it inside out and she would always find a way to slip through my fingers while there. You might as well try to catch the breeze. But where's the will, there's a way.

I needed to make her come out.

She did come out, actually. Every night, even. I was aware of my food disappearing, not too much at once, just a piece of bread here, a slice of cheese there. Just enough for an ordinary man not to notice.

I was no ordinary man.

It was her way of showing me she was better than me. It would be my way of showing her she was not.

 _This was fun,_ I thought. _But all good things must come to an end._

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 1-_


	2. Chapter 2

I entered the forest, scanning every corner until I finally found what I was looking for - those tear-shaped purple berries. Their clear juice would give my food a special touch; I really hoped she would enjoy my cooking. Then, all I'd have to do is wait until her body goes numb and finish my job.

The berries were fragile so I picked them one at a time. _Soon._

Little by little, I relaxed, my body filling with a familiar buzz. _Mmm. Nothing's better than a good smoke once in a while._

Having collected some, I realized that pleasant vibration turned into dizziness. I closed my eyes, trying to breath it through. Maybe I stuffed the pipe too much again.

 _...Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale… Inhale some more, be light as the air. Inhale some more and fly away..._

I felt like I was floating, as if thousands of rays of sunlight were caressing my skin. It was soothing. So soothing.

I looked at my hand, filled with the fruit. My vision started to blur. I tried to blink it away. To no avail.

 _...Inhale. Exhale. Inhale..._

And strange ideas started to cross my mind.

 _I might as well swallow it myself. Why not? The world will probably become a better place._

I shook my head. What a stupid thought.

 _Inhale to master my muscles again. Exhale to get back to Earth._

But the feeling remained. That strange thrill, that promise of sweet serenity slowly started to creep into my mind, overwhelming me. _There will be no more hunger. No pain. No cold. No loneliness. Nothing. Just eternal rest in peace._

 _...Inhale… Exhale... Inhale..._

I felt like I wasn't myself anymore, just some other person watching me from the outside.

 _So what?_ I didn't know what was on the other side, but honestly, what can be worse than _this_ life?!

I screwed my eyes shut; there was something so warm and reassuring coming my way, it was so close, I could almost reach it…

 _Inhale. Exhale. Don't inhale anymore. You're already light enough._

My hand moved on its own, raising itself to pop a berry into my mouth. But it didn't matter, it wasn't me, it wasn't me anymore, just someone I used to be, someone-

"Stop!" I suddenly heard a thin voice from behind me, grabbing me and drawing me from the trance like a pair of sturdy, determined hands.

I turned back and just stood there, open-mouthed, berries falling to my feet.

There was a little girl, hardly six years old, her hair the colour of sunlight and her eyes as green as the forest all around her. Her plain dress was covered in leaves, a crown of wild flowers adorning her head.

"Don't eat them, they're poisonous."

I couldn't take my eyes off her. She looked so… out of this world. So pure, so innocent, so full of good will and hope.

She was everything I stopped being a long, long time ago. And could never be again.

And that moment, deep inside, I knew I would never be able to do her harm.

* * *

She didn't bother with any introduction whatsoever, just told me to wash my hands because the berry juice seeping into my skin, combined with the tobacco, were making me delirious. I followed her advice, then plunged my head into the water to cool down again. It felt good. Like when you wake up from a really, really weird, gloomy dream.

"So you speak my language?" I asked as we were both warming up next to a fire.

"It's not yours, it's ours," she muttered a bit sulkily. The melody of her speech was different, so was the accent. She used strange sounds I'd never heard before and found funny. But still, I understood.

"You speak well, but you don't pronounce correctly."

"I do," she replied, looking me confidently in the eye, making it very clear that it wasn't about to change anytime soon. I remained quiet for a while, not knowing what to say. Even though the silence felt oppressing to me, the girl seemed just fine with it, nibbling on her roasted chestnuts.

She was small, so small and bony as a stick.

"You can't just live on fruits and nuts. Here, have some meat." I handed her a piece of the rabbid I was eating. She shook her head.

"Hey, eat up and grow. Otherwise, it'll be you who gets swallowed."

"Will _you_ swallow me?" she asked, serious.

"I might." I raised an eyebrow.

"No, you won't." She chuckled.

 _What a brat,_ I couldn't help thinking.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Someone who sings in such a lovely way cannot be bad."

I felt my face grow hot. Singing wasn't the best way to earn respect from enemies, so I only did that when I was sure no one would hear. Which was… while having a bath.

"You should sing more often."

"Really?" I smiled. "Do I sing _that_ good?"

"No, that's not what I meant." The little blonde chuckled again. She wiped her mouth with a sleeve and, as if we'd known each other for centuries, as if we were both of the same blood, as if I hadn't thought of poisoning her an hour ago, she lied down next to me, yawned and fell asleep.

I sat still, waiting until her breathing got regular, then stood up and started to pack my stuff, thinking about the feast I'd treat myself to that very night. And, at last, I'd get some real sleep. In a real bed.

I glanced at her again. She seemed so peaceful, too deeply plunged in the dreams of the virtuous to worry about anything.

 _Sorry, kid,_ I thought. _You chose the wrong person. Saved the wrong life. People are full of shit, you know. And I'm not even the worst. So let this be a lesson to you._

Once that I'd got everything ready, I leaned over to pick her tiny frame up.

"Now, this was a piece of cake," I breathed to myself.

"Mmm... Cake," the girl mumbled from her dream.

Then, the strangest of things happened. She reached out to draw me closer. And - up until today, I don't know why - I let her.

I closed my eyes for a while, trying to figure out what had just happened.

I could have just grabbed her and brought her to my client. I'd have got more gold I could possibly spend, more fine alcohol I could possibly drink, more beautiful women I could possibly fuck in one lifetime. She would become a slave and raping would probably be the least disgusting thing they'd do to her.

I contemplated her for a while. A teeny-tiny being who laughed at me when I threatened her. Who told me I smelt bad. Who chose to trust me, God knows why. Her aura shone with all the colours, just like a rainbow. Unlike me, she hadn't made a choice yet.

Truth be told, no one gave _me_ a choice.

I was used to being broke. Drinking cheap liquor. Not bedding the women I would have preferred. It seemed like a good deal to trade a carefree life for that girl growing up at her own pace, giving herself to whom she loved, becoming whom she wanted to be.

The night was chilly and I noticed she started to shiver. I hugged her. With her by my side, I felt warmer, too.

At that moment, I already knew what I was about to do. Except I had no idea how I'd do it; I just knew I'd figure it out eventually.

 _Sleep tight, little light in the darkness. I'm giving you the greatest gift of all. A choice._

 _As long as I walk on this Earth, I promise you'll always have one._

 _Whatever the cost._

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 2-_


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, she guided me through her forest into the secret spot where she usually slept. We decided to stay there for the time being, trying to figure out what to do next.

I told her my name, then asked for hers. It turned out she didn't have any.

"I've never needed one."

"Of course you haven't. But it would be useful to have one now..."

She didn't seem to care. At all.

So I started to call her _Slovensko_ , Slovakia. From _slovo_ , 'a word'. A brief way of saying 'she whose language I understand'. And somehow, it remained.

* * *

I tried to teach her how to fight and hunt. She was no good at it. Actually, she didn't seem to have any particular talent at all. It was becoming clearer everyday that no good future awaited her in the forest. And we couldn't possibly walk out of there without having other mercenaries run into us. Into _her_.

So I made up my mind. I would take care of them.

And once again, I would cut, pierce, smother, strangle, seize, slay, maim and much more. Except that now, it was for a good reason. I would say to Slovakia that I was looking for food, that she needed to stay hidden in that secret, so perfectly camouflaged cave. And every time I got back, tired and hurting, she would heal me and help me cook dinner.

Healing, yes. I soon realized that was her talent. She could do miracles just with some hot water and things that one can find in the forest. And she did them. Every day.

Not before long, there was just one warrior left. I was more than eager to take him out so we can finally get out of there, head for the nearest village, get a roof over our heads and something that at least approaches the concept of a good life.

I came looking for him; I was growing impatient. As if he knew exactly what was going on in my head, soon enough, he jumped out of a bush and tried to take me out. But I was quicker.

We fought for quite a while - he was slender, agile and rather flexible - until I got him pinned down. He was already bleeding from several spots and I took out my knife to finish him off. As I pressed the blade against his throat, something I hadn't noticed before made me freeze. The smell.

The usual smell of sweat, but with an intriguing, floral tinge to it. The smell of a girl.

My hand slid down between the fighter's legs and squeezed. She squirmed. A girl indeed. And a nice specimen, too. It'd been a while since I had one.

She must have seen that hungry gleam in my eyes - she started to twist and turn in a futile attempt to set free. I forced the steel harder against her throat while, with my free hand, undoing my trousers.

"Hold still. Or else," I hissed, trying to make my way through all the clothing she was wearing.

"S-stop," she pleaded half-choking, desperate.

That word. It reminded me of someone.

Against my will, I looked up and our eyes met. Hers were green - again, reminding me of that special someone. She just lied there, silently begging me not to push any further. That would have usually not stopped me; my mind was already clouded with lust. But everything about her made me think of my little Slovakia, curled up in that cave, waiting for me to get what we jokingly called home. That could be her in a few centuries. And suddenly, I didn't want to take the stranger anymore. Not like that, at least.

"Don't come near ever again. And tell the whole world she's with me now. That if anyone touches her, I won't rest until I hunt them down," I declared as I let her go, getting dressed again.

For a second or two, she did not move, having no idea what just happened.

" _Köszönöm,_ " she then whispered, sprang up and disappeared. I'd never seen anyone run so quickly.

I didn't know what that meant. I couldn't care less. I just wanted to get back to that little girl. To keep her safe from men like the one I used to be.

I haven't forced myself on a woman ever since.

* * *

It was obvious I couldn't go on as a mercenary anymore. So I visited a few villages, talked to a few innkeepers and got us both a job. I was to serve food and drinks in the pub and she would help cleaning the rooms.

"We'll be living as humans for a while now," I told her that night. She nodded, though she probably had little idea what it meant. I made her understand that we would be moving regularly from one place to another. That way, nobody would wonder how come we didn't grow the way other kids did.

"You're going to need a human name. As for the family one, I'd like you to accept mine. It's Kučera, 'a curl'; it's very frequent so it'll help us blend in. Since you're a girl, you will be called Kučerová. Now pick a first name."

"I don't know." She shrugged. "What's yours?"

"You can't have mine, I'm a boy. Anyway, the name I chose is Hynek. Other countries call me Henry, Heinrich, Henri, Enrico. It means 'the home ruler'. I like it because I don't want others to rule over me."

Slovakia nodded. She seemed to be thinking really hard.

"There are many lovely names for girls in our language. Like Mária. Zuzana. Irena. Katarína." My list went on and on, but she didn't seem to be listening, taking a good look around.

"I'd like to be called after flowers. Stars in the sky. The taste of honey on my tongue. That feeling when I wake up in the morning, all refreshed. The smell of air after the rain. Of how warm I feel when you sleep next to me," she breathed. It was the first time I heard her speak so much in one day. "I want my name to sum up all that. And much more."

"Mmm…" I closed my eyes and thought for a while. And a wonderful name came to my mind. The name I would say, whisper, moan, stutter and shout many, many times through the centuries to come. _Eva._ 'To live'.

She liked the sound of it. I haven't called her much by her country name ever since.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 3-_

* * *

 _Translations:_

Köszönöm. (Hungarian) = Thank you.

* * *

 _(A/N: In case you're wondering how to pronounce Kučera, it's koo-chair-ah.)_


	4. Chapter 4

We started to work. It was nice to have a bit of stability in life for once - a real job, a bed to sleep in and three meals a day.

I was surprised how quickly Eva grew once she stopped going hungry so often. Every time I looked at her, she seemed taller, her baby golden hair darker, her eyes deeper. Before I could realize, she turned ten. That was where things started to get complicated.

The day of her tenth birthday, I went to the market and picked a lovely brooch shaped as a linden leaf. She almost jumped with thrill when I gave her the gift. She put it on and had a long look at herself in the mirror. She liked what she saw. And then, she turned around, jumped into my arms and planted a big, sloppy kiss on my lips.

Once I regained my spirits again, I took hold of her arms, gently pushing her away. She seemed hurt.

"Eva, this… This is wrong. This is... How shall I put this?! This is how you kiss someone you love," I managed clumsily. She glanced at me, blinking away tears.

"But I _do_ love you," she wept. "Don't you love me?!"

"Of course I do. But more like a brother." I sighed and reached out to hug her. She didn't let me.

"I saw you kiss a girl like that the other day. Do you love her?"

Now that was a tricky question. And my time was running out, her confused eyes slowly piercing through me, requesting an answer.

"No, I don't," I finally admitted.

"So?" She seemed even more lost than before. Was it any wonder? Despite that, I just didn't find it in me to explain all those things to her.

"Just…" I shook my head, gesturing vividly. "Just… If you want to kiss me, do it on the cheek, alright?"

She said nothing, so I left the room. It wasn't before another century that she kissed me again.

* * *

One morning, shortly after she turned eleven, she didn't show up for breakfast. I went to check on her. She was sitting upright in her bed, shaking, her face so white it almost blended with the sheets.

"Eva, are you ill?" I took a closer look at her, checking her pulse. She gave me a look full of despair.

"I think I'm dying, big brother," she whimpered.

For a brief moment, I was scared, too. But she'd always been perfectly healthy. And even that morning, she didn't look like a dying person to me.

"What makes you think that?" I took her ice cold hands into mine to warm them up. "Did you have an accident? Are you in pain?"

She shook her head.

"What's wrong then?"

"I… I'm bleeding," she mumbled, stifling a cry.

I felt more and more lost with every word she said. _She_ was the one always healing _me_. My wounds were nasty and bled a lot, but as far as I could see, her bed was pure white. Why was she so panicky all of a sudden?

"Show me," I ordered, removing the duvet. She tore it away from me, gripping tight to keep it in place.

"No." She blushed.

"Why not?"

"I can't." Her face was now flushing scarlet. And it hit me. I laughed and relaxed.

"Princess, that's alright. Girls are supposed to bleed like that from time to time."

She blinked at me, incredulous.

"Often?" she ventured.

"Well, unless I'm mistaken, it's once a month."

She sighed, hiding her face in her palms.

"But… Why?! I mean, I… I don't know how to deal with this," she moaned. Once again, I didn't find it in me to explain those things to her. So I took her to see our neighbor; she promised she'd tell Eva what she needed to know. I sighed with relief.

* * *

Ever since then, I started to realize that we wouldn't be able to go on like that forever. She was slowly turning into a young lady and I had to make sure it would happen at the right pace, in the right way. She needed a motherly figure in her life and that was something I could not provide. Let alone our current employer.

That sleazy, perverted innkeeper. How come it took me so long to realize what was going on? How come it had to come to that?

Eva was a rather submissive girl; she always suffered through a lot before telling me. Maybe if she had told me, things would have been different.

She was about to turn twelve and her body was slowly rounding up. Just a little bit, it was almost imperceptible, but I noticed. And someone else did, too.

It seems that when I wasn't around, he would touch her. Lightly, innocently at first. Then, his hands would linger a bit longer. On her back. Her stomach. Her chest. Her… Just the thought of it makes me shudder.

I didn't understand why, but she started to bite her nails bloody. Even though that was as clear a sign as one could hope for, I overlooked it. All I did was that I got her a nail file, made her wear it in her pocket at all times and just shorten her nails every time she felt like biting them. I was an idiot.

One night, after dinner, he told me to go get some liquor from the merchant in the next village. Unwillingly, I obeyed. As I was getting back, I caught a glimpse of Eva's face through the kitchen window. Something felt wrong. She was chewing on her lip. That only ever happened once she'd already bitten all she could off her nails.

I stepped closer and realized he was standing next to her, whispering something, his filthy hands roaming all over her body, feeling her up. I ran to the door. It was locked. I banged on it, pulled on the doorknob to the point of almost tearing it out until, at last, I had the good idea to just kick it in.

In two giant steps I entered the kitchen, hoping it was not too late. Turned out it was.

Luckily, not for her.

The innkeeper was lying on the ground, blood spraying all around the kitchen from the hole in his throat. And Eva, my sweet little Eva towering over him, trembling, the blood-stained nail file still in her hand.

I grabbed her and held her close, pressing my lips against her forehead. It took her a moment to start to cry.

"I… I… I snuffed him out… like… like a candle," she blabbered against my shoulder between her cries. I kept holding her close, stroking her hair.

"Shh, that's alright, my princess. That's alri-"

"I KILLED HIM!" she shouted, looking up to face me. Her fine features were distorted by all the distress, the sickly white skin covered in tears and blood.

"That's alright. You had no choice," I went on soothing her, but she tore away from me.

"I KILLED A MAN! I TOOK A LIFE!" she screamed from the top of her lungs, then covered her eyes, shaking her head. "That's NOT alright!"

After that, she went down on her knees and just cried it all out. I stayed with her until the village grew dark, then asked her to pack the essentials and did what every worthy big brother would do. That night, we put an end to three human lives - the innkeeper's, hers and mine. It was time for us to face whom we truly were.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 4-_


	5. Chapter 5

"I don't know." Austria frowned. "I can use a man like you. As for the girl, -"

"It's a package deal," I cut him off.

"Then I'm afraid -"

"Good morning." We both looked up when what I assumed was Austria's wife entered the room. Her gaze slid from her man to me and met mine. I felt my eyebrows shoot up - her body had turned plumper and her dark hair a lot lighter, but her voice and eyes remained the same. I could almost feel her flowery scent across the room. With a hint of spice, now that she was married. She stopped in her tracks, obviously recognizing me, too.

"What do you want?" she asked, composed.

"Hungary, this is Mr. Czechia." Austria pecked her cheek. She went on eyeing me. "He and his little sister would like to work for us. I was just telling him -"

"Hire them," she broke in. He looked rather taken aback, clearly not used to this kind of treatment in his own house.

"Darling," I heard him hiss. "That's two more mouths to feed -"

"Hire them," she repeated, adamant. During this whole time, she never took her eyes off me.

"But," he started again, "we already have plenty of maids and -"

"I can use a chambermaid. Please." She finally turned to look at her husband, moving closer to the point of pressing her body against his. " _Please._ "

He seemed to be trembling a little bit, cheeks turning pink, helpless smile gradually lighting up his face.

"Anything for my beloved Sisi."

And that's how we became a part of Austrian-Hungarian empire.

* * *

Eva was to stay in the house and do the chores. I was to become a mercenary again. I didn't mind that much as long as she was well taken care of.

I explained to her that we'd live with other countries now and that it would make things easier. She seemed to like the idea. But her attitude changed completely when I said that I'd be out most of the time.

"You… don't want me anymore?" Her eyes went watery.

"Of course I do." I tried to calm her down. "It's just that -"

"...That you don't love me anymore," she breathed, giving me the most heart-wrenching look I'd ever received.

"Of course I still love you, silly!" I pressed her against my frame. She didn't hug back.

"Then… Why?"

Her locks, which had turned light brown through the centuries, clung to the tear-drenched cheeks. I wanted to remove them, but I couldn't hold her gaze anymore.

"Because... it's better this way," I sighed, looking down.

"I know why. Because you're a traitor. And a jerk!" she spat. Before I could say or do anything, she tore away from my arms and ran into the house.

I would only see her again many, many years later.

* * *

Mercenary work sucks. On the other hand, now that my little sister was in good hands, I could spend more time carelessly enjoying myself, letting the primal instinct of pleasure-seeking take control.

You guessed right. I fought. I drank. I fucked. All day and all night. What a glorious era that was.

Oh, women. My blessing and my curse. It wouldn't even cross my mind to rape them anymore - yes, they all reminded me of Eva in a way. And, more importantly, they were all willing. I was slowly turning into a lady killer.

I learnt so much about them at that time. They weren't just objects of release to me anymore. I started to enjoy pleasing them - in more than one way. I realized that the foreplay starts outside the bedroom. I learnt how to make them lust after me. And I finally understood that nearly everything is about sex, except for the sex itself, which is mostly about power.

I had power over women and women are the back door to wherever you want to go. The world was lying at my feet.

It might be I would have conquered it if it wasn't for her. _Ach, moje Evička. Co bych pro ni neudělal…_ Oh, my sweet Eva. The things I did for her...

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 5-_


	6. Chapter 6

I got back regularly for Eva's birthday. Bringing flowers, candies and all my love.

She would never accept to see me.

That was another one of her gifts - she was tenacious. Every time I came to visit, we would have a cup of tea in Austria's garden. He would ask Hungary to go fetch her. Every single time, I hoped that she would come out of the house with my little princess by her side. Every single time, she came out alone, shaking her head.

Reasoning, pleading, lying, threatening, bribing - nothing worked once Eva Kučerová started to sulk. She would go on sulking until she decided for herself that it was time to stop.

The time came a few centuries after. The day she turned fifteen.

According to what she told me later, she gave it enough thought and came to a conclusion that I'd done it all for her own good. She decided the next time, she would not only see me; she would be the one to open the door.

And I just stood there, mouth gaping, eyes open wide. _This can't be. I must be in the wrong house. This ravishing, breathtaking young woman cannot be my little sister. She was so tiny and bony when I left her; she couldn't have -_

"Big brother!" The heavenly apparition laughed. "Welcome home."

She stepped aside and I entered the house. And a new era of my existence.

* * *

She ushered me to the kitchen where I once sat, deciding about our future. I took a seat while she made the tea; Austria and Hungary were already waiting in the garden.

During the whole time, I couldn't take my eyes off her.

"What are you looking at?" She chuckled again. Her laugh was happy with a tinge of nervousness. My staring was probably making her uneasy, but it couldn't be helped.

"Don't blame me. I haven't seen you in such a long time. You're so…"

 _Beddable_ , I thought. _So beddable._ I wondered for how long she would resist if I slid my hand under that skirt right there and then.

The thought almost made me slap myself. _She's your sister, idiot._

 _But it's not as if we were of the same blood..._

 _YOUR LITTLE UNDERAGE SISTER, YOU SICK BASTARD!_

"So... what?" Eva wondered.

"Grown up. You're all grown up!" I rushed out. She smiled and I mentally sighed with relief.

We talked about anything and everything, I felt she was starting to warm up to me.

"So, will you be coming to the marriage?" she suddenly asked.

"Who's getting married?"

"Has nobody told you, brother? I'm marrying Mr. Switzerland next year."

My heart skipped a beat. I was so taken aback that it took a while for my head to clear up again.

"Do you… Do you love him?" I asked softly, even though all I wanted was to scream from the top of my lungs.

"I don't know." She shrugged. "Never met him."

And I just stared at her, incredulous.

I asked a few more questions. It turned out the whole thing was Austria's idea.

"Eva darling." I stood up, taking a firm hold of her shoulders. "You can't just say yes to this kind of things. You need to stand up for yourself."

"They told me I didn't have a choice," she breathed, her voice so blank and matter-of-factly it was scary. And then, I couldn't hold back anymore. I grabbed her and held her tight for a good while. She seemed a bit surprised at first. The next second, she was hugging back.

I noticed she didn't smell of candies and warm milk anymore. Now it was flowers, a whole meadow of flowers opening themselves to the shy spring sun. And I wanted her, I wanted her so much it hurt. But she was just a child; she didn't need a lover. She needed a brother. So I put my selfishness aside.

"Eva," I whispered in her ear, brushing the silky hair aside. "As long as I walk on this Earth, I promise you'll always have a choice. You understand?"

She nodded.

 _Always. Whatever the cost._

* * *

I asked her to stay in the house while I talked to the Edelsteins.

"I'm afraid there's not much I can do now that things have been set to motion," Austria said, pouring me a cup of tea. I suppressed the urge to throw the steaming liquid into his face. Maybe later. I'd try to reason with him first.

"But she's fifteen. She's still a girl."

"Fifteen is a solid age for marriage," Hungary commented. I glared at her, blinking.

"I'm sorry. What were _you_ doing at that age?"

Since we both knew the answer, she turned to her husband for support.

"Young Slovakia is getting married. That is final," that Austrian idiot declared. I opted for another approach.

"If you want her to get married so badly, I'll wed her."

He almost choked on his tea. His wife burst out laughing.

"You can't claim back the territory you once gave us." Hungary smiled sweetly. I felt like slapping her across the face. I took a deep breath.

"I'm not claiming the territory. I'm claiming Eva. As a woman."

Silence.

"Aren't you two related?" Austria asked, his head tilting sideways in wonder.

"Aren't we all?!" I retorted. He quickly realized there was no arguing with me on that one.

"Be that as it may, it's too late now. She's already engaged," he concluded. I opened my mouth, but he went on. "And you should be getting back to work."

I knew I wasn't getting anywhere with him. I turned to Hungary. Her face was now displaying no emotion at all.

"I once showed you mercy," I said, staring her in the eye.

"Not acting like an animal in heat is not mercy," she replied coldly. We all knew that was a lie, but none of us said so. Instead, another oppressing silence followed.

"Then I guess I've done all I could." I shrugged and bade them farewell. What I actually wanted to say was that I would get my little girl out of that house, even if it meant burning it down to ashes.

On my way out, I hugged Eva once again.

"Pack your essentials and have the bag always at hand," I whispered, stroking her hair once again.

And once again, she nodded.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 6-_

* * *

 _(A/N: In case you're wondering, the marriage with Switzerland is 100% made up. Can you imagine?! "Hey, that is your second pair of shoes this century! I'm getting that off your wife allowance!" "But I don't have a wi-" "Quiet! You talk too much. And you call THIS a cheese fondue?!" ... But it does bring me to a fun fact - up until 2009, Czech Republic and Slovakia had a rather long-lasting international dispute with Liechtenstein. I'll explain what it was about a bit later.)_


	7. Chapter 7

What a moron. He had one job. He fucked it up. And now he just sat there, nonchalantly enjoying his coffee.

"Здраво, cousin." I sat down next to him, pressing my gun between his ribs. I felt him stiffen; his face went white. Actually, he looked like he would bend down to throw up any second.

"I tried," he said, but didn't sound half as detached as intended.

"You didn't try hard enough," I hissed. "You threw the grenade into the wrong car, halfwit."

He turned to face me. His distorted features betrayed just how much my stalking was getting to him.

"I'm not doing this! I'm already knee-deep in their shit as it is!"

"Oh, yes, you _are_ doing this. Their car's stuck across the road. It's literally now or never." I winked, forcing my new toy lower, much lower. Somewhere even immortals don't want to be shot.

"Why don't _you_ do it in the first place?!" he spat shakily.

"I wouldn't mind," I admitted, finishing his coffee. "But trust me, it must be you, Serbia."

My gun went _click_ and he sprang up and ran.

The gun he'd stolen on his way went _bang! bang! bang!_ and they collapsed and bled.

There was quite a lot of running, bleeding and _bang! bang! bang!_ going on during the four years that followed.

 _Whatever the cost, Eva._

* * *

Little by little, I made my way through that seemingly endless wasteland that used to be the most splendid empire of Europe. All the maids and servants had left the place a long time ago. There were just my old friends Austria and Hungary glaring at me. But glaring was all they could do, stuck under tons of debris. I flashed them my best fuck-you smile.

My heart jumped as I noticed Eva sitting on the top of that giant pile, nibbling on a piece of walnut cake. Contrary to what I feared, she seemed alright, just a scratch here and there.

"Big brother!" she exclaimed happily as she saw me approach. I joined her. She shared the cake with me and for a while, we just sat there in that comfortable silence. A while later, I explained it would be easier if we got married. She shrugged and said she trusted me.

We stood up and looked at each other, exchanging the two wooden rings I'd carved for us.

And with a kiss as light as a touch of a feather, we sealed our first marriage.

* * *

 _(A/N: The picture of Austria and Hungary stuck under the debris is a metaphor for their WW1 reparation debt.)_

* * *

We rummaged in the debris and built a house out of the nicest pieces. It didn't look that bad.

After a modest dinner, I did all the necessary paperwork. There was more of it than expected. Much, much more. When I finally got to my bedroom, I could barely keep my eyes open. I collapsed on my bed, hugging the duvet as tightly as never before.

"Please, don't hit me too hard," the duvet wept. I almost had a heart attack. Two green eyes full of tears seemed to be shining through the darkness, begging for mercy. I turned the light back on.

"Wh… Why on Earth would I hit you?" I stared at her, bewildered. "I would never do that."

"But… You have to," Eva breathed. A tear made its way down her cheek. She quickly brushed it off, swallowing a sob. I was dead tired and just wanted to go to sleep, not sit there and deal with her nonsense.

"Eva… What the hell are you talking about?!" I said a bit more loudly than I really wanted. The girl shrunk away.

"Isn't that what people do on a wedding night?" she wondered as she wiped her eyes. And I just went on staring at her, totally clueless.

"No! Definitely not!" I yelled, instantly regretting it.

"Then… Forgive me. I won't bother you anymore." Trembling all over and biting her lip, she stood up to leave. I knew I couldn't let her go just like that.

"Hold on a second." I gestured for her to sit down next to me. "Where did you get that idea?"

All I got as a reply was a shrug.

"So what else do you do on a wedding night?" Eva finally ventured. And then, it hit me.

"Our neighbour… Didn't she tell you? Didn't she tell you _why_ you bleed once a month?!"

Now it was her turn to stare at me, blinking.

"Tell me what? She only showed me how to deal with the blood."

 _Crap_.

"And Hungary? Has she never explained?"

"About?"

"About girls. Boys. Growing up. What couples do. What happens on a wedding night."

She looked away, most likely wishing the Earth would swallow her up that very second.

 _Crap. Crap. Crap._

"She only told me to avoid being alone with a grown man, not even an older boy. That they might try to get something only my husband is entitled to. Sometimes, she and Mr. Austria would lock themselves in their bedroom. There would always be lots of crying and moaning. It sounded quite violent."

It took me a while to realize she was serious. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Luckily, I suppressed the urge.

Instead, I drew her close, kissing her forehead. I'd never considered myself fit to explain those things to her, counting on others to do that. What a fool I was.

"Go to your room now and get some sleep, princess. We'll talk tomorrow."

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 7-_


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning, I made two cups of cocoa and asked her to allow me a minute of her time. First, I made her understand this was a convenience marriage and that those things wouldn't be happening between us. Then, I explained everything as delicately as possible.

She listened carefully. After I finished, she stared at her cup for while, probably letting it all sink in.

"But." She finally looked up, eyebrows furrowed. "Doesn't that hurt?!"

"No." I smiled reassuringly. "On the contrary, it's rather pleasant."

Those cute little eyebrows furrowed even more.

"But… It's… I mean… It's so…" She took a deep breath. "I can't possibly imagine how you can… Without…"

I would rather have faced an army than gone on with that conversation. Nevertheless, she needed me and I couldn't let her down.

"Eva." I touched her hand as lightly as possible. "I'm not a woman. Anyway, from what I've heard, it seems that the first time, it does hurt a bit. After that, as long as you're ready and your lover is considerate, it should never be painful."

To my own surprise, it seemed to have reassured her. I stood up to leave, relieved it was finally over.

"It's just," she started hesitantly while still looking down, pretending to stir the now frigid cocoa she'd never really touched.

"Yes?" Against my will, I took a seat again.

"How do I know I'm ready?!" She blushed. I think I did, too. Oh, God. I should have just bought her a book or something.

"Well." _Alright, here we go. You can do this, man._ "It depends. Usually, it starts with someone you like. You enjoy their company, the way they look, the things they say to you, the way they smell… Let's say that you feel like that special person touches you in an abstract way. And you want to feel close to them, touch them in that physical way, too. If they share your feelings, you can kiss. Cuddle. And, as I said, you touch each other pretty much everywhere, even the body parts you wouldn't let others close to. You feel your pulse quicken, the body temperature rises. As if there was liquid fire running through your veins. Your skin tingles and that special place of yours throbs. You want to be as close to that person as possible. And it just… happens."

Awkward silence.

"Oh. Okay," she finally replied. All in all, I was probably more embarrassed than her. In a way, it felt like _she_ was reassuring _me_. "Well, thank you for clarifying that." She gave me a timid smile and started to clean up the table.

"Eva." One more thing needed to be said. And better there and then than once it was too late. "You might have probably guessed, but the first time is special. Your lover should be worthy."

"What's worthy?"

 _Someone who's not like me,_ I wanted to say.

"Someone you love and who loves you. Who cares for you. Who won't force you into doing anything you do not want to do, anything you're not ready for. If he truly deserves you, he will wait for as long as it takes. Someone kind, honest and respectful. Especially respectful."

"I see," Eva breathed.

I stood up once again. The second I touched the doorknob, she stopped me.

"Hynek?"

"Yes, princess?"

"All those women… You did that with them?"

She was looking at me in a way only she could. In a way that made me feel like I couldn't hide anything from her.

"Yes." I nodded slightly. "As a matter of fact, I did."

Her green gaze went on piercing through me. I started to sweat a bit, fighting the urge to avert my eyes.

"Are you a respectful lover?" Eva finally inquired.

"Err." I usually was. Until I got off, at least. "I do my best."

"Good." With that, she turned around and started to do the dishes, her way of telling me the discussion was over.

As I already said, touching her was out of question. On the other hand, I was a married man now and having relations with another woman seemed inappropriate. Therefore, I decided I'd be as chaste as she was.

Then, one evening, on my way home from a rather lonely business trip, I stopped to buy a pack of cigarettes. As I was entering the shop, I ran into the cashier. Hair like fire, a body to die for. Our eyes met and she smiled. I smiled back. The next thing I knew, we were screwing under the counter.

The second I got home, Eva threw herself in my arms and retreated right away, sniffing and frowning. She didn't hug me much since then.

Can anyone blame her? I remained faithful for barely two weeks.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 8-_

* * *

 _(A/N: There will (finally) be some historical facts in the next chapter! ;) )_


	9. Chapter 9

The years to come were hard. But building your own place is never easy.

Thankfully, we didn't have to start from a scratch - quite the contrary. The bigger part of the ancient empire's industry was situated on our territory. Before too long, our economy flourished.

From the political point of view, we both wanted a parliamentary democracy. Contrary to the rest of Europe, we managed to preserve it until 1938, that is, for whole twenty years. I was so proud of us.

As for our previous superiors, Edelstein and Hédérváry (they divorced in the meantime) owed us money for war damage. Eva decided we didn't need it, but I insisted. I wanted them to pay for trying to ship her off like some kind of goods. In the end, the debt was cancelled, but when, shortly after, Austria lost his freedom, I didn't have a drop of sympathy for him.

Anyway, despite the responsibilities and duties permanently looming over us like a malevolent spirit, there were good moments, too. For instance, sports. I taught her to play hockey and football - she did surprisingly well. But my strongest memory is the one I have of writing our national anthem.

We agreed that even though we were Czechoslovaks now, we were nothing alike and therefore, both our identities should be respected. So the anthem would consist of two halves. Eva suggested I take care of hers and vice versa. I liked the idea.

She chose the song I was singing when she first saw me; I'd sung it to her many times since. As for me, I wanted something more determined, like a battle chant, to show the world that they better not mess with her. In the end, the whole thing went more or less like this:

 _Where is my home, where is my home?_

 _Streams are rushing through the meadows,_

 _Midst the rocks sigh fragrant pine groves,_

 _Orchards decked in spring's array,_

 _Scenes of Paradise portray._

 _And this land of wondrous beauty,_

 _Is the Czech land, home of mine,_

 _Is the Czech land, home of mine!_

 _Lightning strikes our mighty Tatras tempest shaken,_

 _Lightning strikes our mighty Tatras tempest shaken._

 _Stand we fast friends of mine; storms will pass, sun will shine; Slovaks shall awaken,_

 _Stand we fast friends of mine; storms will pass, sun will shine; Slovaks shall awaken._

I thought my little poem worked, because, shortly after, she started to change.

At first, she was so sweet and meek as ever. She realized she was finally free to use her own language at any time, so she concentrated a lot on her art, education and identity awareness. My people had always had a strong sense of national identity and, in a way, it was only natural that the two of them started to clash.

Eva complained about the situation at her place, which was mostly agricultural. She wanted more industry. Her health care and social system were weak. There was much more poverty, too. I sent her money, doctors, experts, gave her people jobs. Still, I felt that however hard I tried, it just wasn't enough.

What she wanted was her own government. Autonomy.

From where I stood, it seemed like nothing more than a teenage girl's whim. She wanted to be independent, but she couldn't just yet. She was too young, too vulnerable, too inexperienced. Despite all the sulking and silent treatment she put me through, I didn't worry; I felt like deep down, she understood.

That was why it shocked me so much when _it_ happened.

She'd always been an early bird. Every time I got down, the breakfast was ready. That morning, I woke up really soon and decided to do the cooking myself.

As I entered the kitchen, a tiny object on the table caught my eye. My heartbeat quickened. It was her wedding ring.

There was a note, too. I unfolded it, then read it again and again, unable to believe my eyes.

 _'It's over',_ it said.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 9-_

* * *

 _(A/N: As promised, I put plenty of historical facts in this chapter: Czechoslovak area did indeed house_ _70-80% of the empire's industry. Slovakia has always been less industrialized - this until quite recently. After 1933, Czechoslovakia really was the only parliamentary democracy in Europe. The war reparation debt imposed upon WW1 losers was indeed cancelled - barely anybody could pay. And most of us enjoy football and ice hockey - Czech hockey team is considered as one of the best in the world._

 _Those lyrics were indeed our anthem (it's an alternative English translation which is true to the tune and meter). FYI, "Tatras" are the highest Slovak mountain chain. You can see them on our flag, too._

 _As for Eva finally being able to speak her own language freely - only German and Hungarian were allowed in the empire. Minority languages suffered. There was even a public burning of Slovak books in 1907. Honestly, Slovak language has been through a LOT before being officially recognized. And I'm just sitting here, writing a fanfic in English...)_


	10. Chapter 10

The ink hadn't entirely dried yet. I ran out of the house, not stopping before I caught up with her. The second she noticed me, she panicked and picked up pace. It was quite a performance, but no match for a former mercenary. Soon enough, I grabbed her and we both went falling to the ground where I pinned her down, involuntarily rubbing her face in the dirt. I didn't like it in the slightest, but I had no choice. And she twisted and turned, trying to break free with all she had. Poor girl.

"E-Eva," I gasped, trying to catch my breath. "What the hell? Explain yourself."

"I'm leaving," she spat. "To build my own home."

Just like many times before and after, I felt clueless.

"Wh-why?" I finally managed. "What's wrong?"

"Everything's wrong! Your people intimidate mine. I'm doing all the dirty work while _you_ get all the perks. I don't want to put up with you anymore. I'm so much better on my own," Eva barked, never stopping in her futile resistance.

I tried to reason with her, but she wouldn't have any of it.

"Sweetheart, I know it's diffi-"

"Shut up!" she shouted. "You're a freeloader. A womanizer. And a jerk. Who would want to live with you anyway?!"

Her words, sharp as a battle axe, cut right through me. No one had ever caused me so much pain. For a second, I let down my guard. She was waiting for that; the very same second, she slipped from my arms. As she did so, as if in slow motion, I caught a glimpse of her face. Covered in filth and tears, lower lip chewed bloody.

I outran her again and this time, I grabbed her waist, determined to hold her until she was worn out. She went on fighting, kicking and scratching, she even tried to bite me (have I ever told you she was tenacious?), all that while shouting how much she hated me until her voice turned husky and her body limp, except for an occasional sob. Only then did I lay her back on the ground, hugging her tight.

"And now you'll tell me what's really going on, okay?" I requested in a soft voice. She shook her head and tried to escape me once again, but didn't have enough force left. So she just sobbed.

"I can't. If they see us together…"

"Who? And why?" I went on holding her close, stroking her shaking back.

A while later she calmed down, then rummaged in her bag until she retrieved a pile of letters. I ran over them, doing my best to hide my consternation. I didn't have Eva's gift for languages, but considering my past, my German level was more than good. Definitely good enough to grasp the essence - that if she didn't separate from me, I would get badly hurt. I finally understood why she acted so strange during the last few weeks - she wasn't sulking, she was suffering in silence. She always suffered in silence.

"You get it now?" she breathed, wiping her eyes with a sleeve. "I must go. It's better this way."

I sprang up and took a firm hold of her hand. She turned around, intrigued.

"Darling, don't you see? Don't you see what they are after? They'll attack us anyway. Except that if we separate, we'll be conquered more easily."

For a while, she kept on looking at me, then glancing away, as if second-guessing herself. Her lip was so scarred she couldn't chew on it anymore, though I knew for sure that if she could, she would.

"Eva, please. I need you. _Společně jsme silnější_. Together, we're stronger."

I let go off her hand. A second later, she interlaced her fingers with mine, half-smiling.

She let me put the ring back on. She insisted I kiss her to bless the newly found union, but I couldn't - her mouth looked so bruised and fragile. So I just pecked her cheek. And that was how we sealed our second marriage. It only lasted a few months.

I guess she was right about the kiss.

* * *

As soon as I could, I went to see western superpowers. Or, the way I've been calling them ever since - Lord Eyebrows and the pervert.

"I don't see what's the problem," Eyebrows said as he put away the letters I'd brought as evidence. "All they are asking for is a teeny-weeny bit of your territory. And we've already told them it was okay. Just give them what they want."

I couldn't believe what I'd just heard. Was he doing it on purpose?

"They already took over Austria. Now they want some of my lands, too. What makes you think that once I oblige, they won't ask for more?"

England rolled his eyes.

"Listen, I don't know _who_ you think you are -"

"Czechoslovak Republic, I've already told you."

"Whatever. I don't care. We're not starting a war for some people far, far away whom we'll probably never meet."

"You are meeting me right now," I commented matter-of-factly even though, inside, I felt like hyperventilating.

"For crying out loud," he half-shouted, rubbing his temples. "Just take one for the team."

I opened my mouth, but all I managed was a frustrated sigh.

"See? Peace in our time." Eyebrows turned to the other guy who hadn't spoken much so far. I turned to look at him as well.

"What do _you_ think?" I asked, eyeing the Frenchie.

"Mmmm, _je sais pas_ ," he muttered, stroking his beard. "I might help. But it won't be for free."

 _Good. There's still hope._

"I'm doing pretty good at the moment. I've got money."

He chuckled, his laugh flirtatious and carefree.

"Oh, I'm not asking for _money_."

I was starting to have a bad feeling about the whole thing.

"What do you want then?"

One of his eyebrows shot up, followed by a devious smile.

"Well, how shall I put this… What I'd like is your _femme_."

"My f… what?" I was having a hard time understanding his gibberish since the very beginning. Now I didn't understand at all.

"He wants to fuck your wife, wanker," England explained, rolling his eyes again and snorting. To support his words, France smiled even wider. And all I could think of was how much I wanted to hit them in the face with something heavy. Repeatedly.

"There's no way I'm letting someone like you near her," I replied coldly.

"Then I'll take you, _mon chéri_." He winked. I said 'Not in a million years' and left. But I felt like I'd just got fucked anyway.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 10-_

* * *

 _(A/N: Germany was mainly interested in conquering Czech lands because many Germans lived there. At that time, England and France were Czechoslovakia's allies. Nevertheless, in order to avoid a war, they chose not to fulfill their commitments and let Czechoslovakia to Germany's mercy. The concept is known as 'Western betrayal'.)_


	11. Chapter 11

I took my time on the way back home. I didn't really know how I'd manage to look Eva in the eye. I promised her that as long as I walked on this Earth, she would have a choice. But right then, I felt unable to give her one. My hands were tied.

Little did I know things were about to get even worse.

As I opened the door, Hungary jumped out from behind and swung it shut, then blocked it with her body. My first reflex was to grab her throat and start to choke her.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, cousin." A familiar voice from behind my back advised. I looked over my shoulder to see Poland pointing his pink gun (he's always been fancy as fuck) at me, then taking place right next to Hungary. She flashed me the same kind of smile I had given her twenty years earlier and gestured for me to turn over.

Eva was sitting on the couch, admirably stoic, one of those infamous German brothers by each of her sides.

"Princess, are you alright?" I panicked, starting in her direction.

"Don't go any closer." In perfect synchrony, the two of them took out their guns and pointed them at me. I gulped so loudly they must have heard it all the way through the room.

"What do you want?" I spat.

"We were just talking to your _Frau_ here." The albino grinned. "Trying to reason with her so she becomes a sovereign state. Maybe you can help."

My eyes found Eva's. She shook her head. Very, very slightly, but enough for me to notice.

"What if we refuse?" I ventured, though I already had an idea.

"We'll cut her in half. Those two back there will share." I looked around to see Poland and Hungary nodding in approval. And I felt like I couldn't take it anymore.

"You know what?" I yelled. "Fuck you. Fuck _you_." I pointed at Hungary. "And fuck _you_ in particular, Feliks. We're supposed to be a family." I glared at the said man, then turned to the Germans again. "Now, I request that-"

"Shut your hole! You're not in the position to request anything," the blond roared. As if they had been practicing it, the two brothers instantly put away the guns and took out daggers, pointing them at my little Eva's white throat. I froze.

"Alright, alright," I tried to calm them down. "Let her be. I know it's me you want. I'll go with you."

Eva's lips parted in shock. I gave her the most reassuring look I could manage and removed my ring. After a second's hesitation, she did the same. With our eyes still locked, we threw them into the fireplace.

" _Wie romantisch._ " The albino snickered. Then, two knives moved abruptly and my heart stopped for a while. In a fraction of a second, the Germans cut off her plaits, throwing them to their partners at the door. They smiled in pure bliss and left.

"Let's get going, then." The blond grabbed me and forced for me out of the house. But something was wrong. I turned around. The other brother. He didn't look like he was about to leave. On the contrary, he made himself comfortable, getting even closer to Eva than before.

"You go ahead, I'll catch up." He winked. I tried to get rid of the other German with all I had, but he was stronger. All I could do was to give the older one a killer look. He sneered.

I glanced at Eva, wishing I could tell her how much I loved her and how sorry I was for everything. To my surprise, she still looked perfectly calm. Calmer than everyone. She gave me a small smile, then pointed at her ring finger. It took me a while to understand.

She was pointing at the tan line where her ring used to be. I looked at my own hand. Of course, I had one too. Those were now our wedding rings.

" _Spoločne sme silnejší_ _,_ " she mouthed. _What a brave little girl,_ I remember thinking before the door between us slammed shut.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 11-_

* * *

 _(A/N: What actually happened back in 1938 was that Slovakia declared its autonomy from Czech part of the country. The latter thought 'Not if my army can help it' and they became one state again. Later that year, Hitler informed the Slovak leaders that they either separate from Czech lands or get eaten up by Poland and Hungary. They made their choice. Shortly after, Germany took over the Czech territory. Slovakia became a satellite state, losing some territory to its southern and northern neighbors anyway - hence Eva's plaits being cut off.)_


	12. Chapter 12

The journey was long - I must have fallen asleep on the way. I woke up in an unknown place and kept my eyes closed, trying to remember what happened.

"So, how did it go?" I heard Austria ask.

"It was AWESOME!"

The voice. It all came back to me. That son of a bitch.

"I've never tasted anything so delicious. Wish you guys could have a bite, too, but I'm afraid there's not much left, keseseses-GAAAARGH!"

My eyes shot wide open and I jumped on the German, taking him down. Then, with all the strength I could summon, I started to bang his head against the ground.

"What did you do to her?! I'm gonna _kill_ you, I'm gonna FUCKING KILL YOU!" I went on yelling, completely out of my mind.

After lots and lots of fighting, Austria and the other blond managed to tear me off him.

" _Ach_ _du_ _meine_ _Güte!_ Calm down! Nobody touched the girl."

Within the following minutes, I found out that the blond's name was Ludwig and his bigger brother was Gilbert. And what really happened back at my house.

Once the two of them alone, Eva started to undress herself, asking Gilbert to get on with it as quickly as possible. He actually just wanted to ask her out. Anyway, Eva made it very clear that she wasn't interested and he took it rather badly. Apparently, he looked so devastated that my little princess felt sorry for him. So she baked him a cake to enjoy on the way back, asking him to be kind to me.

It was all so ridiculous it couldn't have been a lie. I glanced at Gilbert (who was now holding an icepack against the back of his head). The very un-awesome look on his face fully confirmed it. For a good while, I couldn't stop laughing my head off.

As soon as we cleared up the misunderstanding, I realized the two of them were actually nice guys. And I had a certain sympathy for Gilbert - women just don't understand how difficult it is for us to ask them out. The least they can do is to turn us down respectfully. Eva had always been sweet, but I guess his invading her place didn't help. He couldn't really know he was hitting on a girl that once bore a grudge for several centuries straight.

"Alright now, we've got work to do," Ludwig declared.

And, once again, I would spend my days and nights fighting, drinking and fucking. That was the life.

The three of us (Austria always stayed at home and did the girly jobs) had lots of conquering to do – for some reason, I especially enjoyed invading Poland. After a long day of hard work, we would always stop at the bar to get a beer. Ludwig would usually finish it in two gulps and head home to do the paperwork; he was such a workaholic. Me and Gilbert used to stay a bit longer, get a few more beers and find ourselves women for the night.

Now that I've come to think about it, I wouldn't say Ludwig actually cared much for the sins of flesh in general. Well, good for him, I guess. Personally, I don't mind going to hell - all my friends will be there.

Anyway, I grew fond of Gilbert; all the crazy shit we did back then still puts a smile on my face. Too bad he fucked it up.

It had been two years since I became a part of their household and I was starting to miss my favorite country. So I asked for a few days off to go back and see her.

" _Nein._ "

"Because…?"

"You're with us now."

"Alright. I gather it's a busy period. How about the next month?"

"Not the next month. Not the next century. Not ever."

I understood that I would have to stay with them for some time and obey. But I also assumed that after a few years, once I'd proven my good will, I would be free to go home again. I couldn't picture my life without Eva in the long run.

"Oh. I see."

What I actually wanted to say was that I was leaving the Third Reich, even if it meant burning it to down to ashes.

"Hey guys. You've grown so powerful. How about you attack Russia now?"

Gilbert flinched. Ludwig's face lit up with something I'd never seen before. The older one turned away, but his younger brother's eyes kept on looking for his, until, eventually, they found them.

" _Bitte._ "

" _Nein!_ " the other one growled, averting his gaze again.

" _Bitte! Bitte! Bitte!_ " The Germans seemed to have switched the personalities, Ludwig playfully and persistently bugging the wary and serious Gilbert until he couldn't take it anymore.

"Alright then, we'll invade Russia!" he spat. "Just shut up already!"

Then, he turned to look at me.

" _Ja_ , why not. I mean, what's the worst thing that can happen, right?!"

I shrugged and laughed under my breath. And Napoleon with several others laughed with me.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 12_ -

* * *

 _(A/N: Yes, the WW2 part is totally vanillaed. But so is Hetalia itself._

 _Btw, here goes something regarding the characters that I should have clarified in the very beginning, but later's better than never :) Eva (Slovakia) and Hynek (Czech Republic) are inspired by old Slavic deities rather than actual countries._

 _Eva is a reflection of Živa, goddess of summer, fertility and abundance. She protects all forms of life and has healing powers._

 _Hynek is a mix of three brothers Rugievit, Porenut and Porevit - gods of war (in Slavic mythology, it is not unusual to have several gods for a single phenomenon) who never left each other's side. He has Rugievit's strength and fighting spirit, Porenut's slyness and he's gorgeous and a player just like Porevit._

 _But I'm also doing my best to give them some typical national traits as well. Eva's submissiveness and the complicated relationship they have are probably the best examples.)_

 _And... **HAPPY NEW YEAR 2016, EVERYONE :)**_


	13. Chapter 13

Four years later, I was bruised and sore, but a married man again.

Eva, who had turned sixteen in the meantime, looked even prettier than before. Her hair had grown back. Her eyelashes seemed longer. And the little fat on her belly seemed to have melted and slid down, forming a nice pair of hips begging to be touched. But I never dared.

Once we exchanged the rings, I asked her how she'd like to celebrate. Folk dancing, she replied, so that was what we did. I even put on my traditional clothing for her. I felt like a dork, but she seemed so happy that I had no regrets whatsoever. _Ach, co bych pro ni neudělal…_

We ended up in a bar where I got us a drink (just one – she was still underage) and then I walked her home. On the way back, I realized I'd left my wallet on the counter. I wished my princess a good night and headed back.

As I was leaving the bar for the second time, I noticed something from the corner of my eye. Or, rather, someone. I turned my head, intrigued.

Hungary was sitting at one of the tables with nothing but a giant _dobosz_ cake and a half-empty bottle of _palinka_ for company. She looked so down in the dumps it seemed unreal.

And all I wanted to do was point a finger at her, yell 'Serves you right for being such a bitch!' and head home.

Except I couldn't. Eva hated Hungary more than I did, but I knew for sure she wouldn't turn her back on anyone that miserable. I straddled one of the chairs next to her.

"Hey. What's wrong?"

She glanced at me, then went on stuffing herself with the cake. I waited. A while later, she looked at me again, surprised I was still there.

"Fuf off," she mumbled with her mouth full of pastry.

I sighed. _Women. They're all the same._

"Listen, I know you don't like me. I don't like you, either. But we can put that aside if you need someone to talk to."

She snorted and took a swig from the bottle.

After a bit more insisting, she finally started to talk. And once she started…

"…I'm so fed up with being alone. My place seems so big and cold!" She cried on my shoulder while I patted her back. "I'm gonna end up a spinster. I never should have left Roderich."

I told her that she was still young and there was plenty of time left to find the love of her life.

"You say that like you know what you're talking about!" she barked in the way drunk people do. "You're married! Even a good-for-nothing like you got married! And I'm still all alone. No one wants me!" I told her our marriage was one of convenience, but it didn't seem to help. Once again, she ended up weeping on my shoulder.

"I should never have left him. I feel like I'm getting older and uglier every single day." My shirt was now drenched with her tears.

"Hungary, I assure you. You're still lovely and desirable." She instantly looked up. I thought maybe I'd gone too far.

"Do you really mean it?" she slurred, wiping her eyes.

"Sure." I shrugged. I _did_ mean it.

Hungary smiled. She poured me a drink, but now that she felt better, I just wanted to go home.

"You don't refuse when a Hungarian treats you to a _palinka_ ," she growled. I didn't really mean to offend her, so I drank it. And the second one, too. And the third one, forth one, fifth one – one too many, I dare say.

* * *

 _(A/N: During and after the war, Slovakia reacquired the territory previously taken by Poland and Hungary = Eva's hair growing back._

 _You probably guessed that_ dobosz _cake and_ palinka _are typical Hungarian stuff. And, yes, Hungarians don't like it when you refuse to drink with them. But neither do Slovaks and Czechs.)_

* * *

When I woke up next morning, my memory was completely blank. All I could recollect was that I had got married the day before. And there was a warm naked body right next to mine. My sweet Eva. Did we…?

 _"Dobré ráno, miláčku,"_ I mumbled, cuddling closer.

Many, many things happened within the next five seconds.

Second one: I realized I had quite a headache and my mouth tasted of _dobosz_ cake I was positive I'd never touched.

Second two: I realized the place reeked of _palinka_ mingled with a familiar womanly smell. Not Eva's, though.

Second three: I opened my eyes. I shouldn't have. It all came back to me.

Second four: Hungary opened her eyes, meeting mine.

Second five: Hungary started to scream, calling me names and literally kicking me out of her bed.

"You filth!" she yelled as loudly as her voice allowed her. "Did you rape me?! I swear I -"

"No!" I broke in, running around, trying to find my clothes. "You wanted it. And you liked it." I was pretty sure she remembered that much, still, she didn't seem to appreciate my matter-of-factly reminder. Her eyes widened and she reached into the drawer of her nightstand, extracting a gun and instantly pointing it in the direction I liked the least.

"GET OUT NOW! And if you tell _anyone_ what happened, I'll hurt you in such a way no woman will ever need you again!"

Half-naked, I ran out of her house.

When I got home, I didn't even bother to shower, collapsing in the crisp sheets right away.

I found Eva sleeping in my bed. I didn't mind though, she kept it warm. I heard her wake up, sniff, then leave the room with a few choking sounds, but I was already too far on my way to dreamland to care.

And this is how I ruined our third marriage.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 13-_

* * *

Translation:

 _Dobré ráno, miláčku_ = In Czech, "Good morning, sweetheart"


	14. Chapter 14

As I woke up later that day, I tried to catch up with her. She decided to pretend I wasn't there.

"It's a convenience marriage, Eva. What did you expect?" I asked her. She gave me a blank look and walked away.

Ever since, she wouldn't let me close. And that didn't only apply to hugs and kisses. We were husband and wife, still, she hardly ever talked to me, not even for business. She literally lived her own life.

She wasn't naive, but I guess my spending the wedding night with her nemesis was far too much of a humiliation.

Anyway, that wasn't the only thing. The day we were reunited, I noticed there were more red threads in her aura than before. A lot more. The war had changed her. Her meek self became less prominent - she didn't accept to be tricked and ruled over anymore. Not openly, at least.

The day I was taken away, she had no choice left but to declare herself a sovereign state. In reality, she was nothing more than a German puppet. She didn't really mind, though - this way, the fighting affected her less than other countries. She didn't object when they asked for money, either.

In the forties, things started to change. Germany declared war to plenty of other countries, countries where many of Eva's children lived. And, just like we all do, she loved those more than anything. The second reason, a more matter-of-factly one, was that the Germans were growing weak. They weren't paying their debts and started to bite the battlefront dust more and more often. It was getting clearer every day that the Third Reich would soon fade into past.

So she started an uprising. Clumsily, at first - she didn't really have much experience in revolts. But she worked hard, day and night, collecting men, money, arms and allies. Until she found the ultimate one - Russia.

He liked what she was doing, so he invited her over to his place, trained her and helped in cash and kind. Thanks to his support, she stood tall and fought openly as well as guerrilla-style. My little girl! Can you imagine?!

It's true the uprising wasn't _that_ effective in itself, but it became a symbol. A symbol we so desperately needed at that time. Something that showed we weren't anybody's doormat. And, more importantly, that Germans were not our friends and we did not deserve to go down with them.

Once the war was over, we struggled to draw the enemy out of our place. So Russia stayed a bit, offering precious help and soon enough, most of the Germans were gone.

The thing was, _he_ never left.

* * *

 _(A/N: Slovak National Uprising (1944) really is a big thing when it comes to our history. Most of the cities and towns have streets, squares or something else named after it. In the city of Banská Bystrica, the place where the uprising was launched, there's even a museum and a massive memorial (to be honest, I don't find the monument pleasant to the eye. Maybe because I used to see it every day for three years on my way to school... But it seems the museum is not bad at all.).)_

* * *

Don't get me wrong - I admired Russia. He was a respectable fighter and quite a politician, too. I was honoured to learn that he liked our place - so much so I invited him over to our house. He accepted and we spent the whole evening in my office, discussing our future. I liked his vision and he seemed to appreciate my ideas, too. When he left, I felt like a different person. Fresh, strong and eager to do my utmost for our beloved children.

Soon, he was visiting every other week. Eva would bring us coffee and cake and listen a bit, but neither of us would ever acknowledge her – there was so much to talk about that the meetings often lasted until small hours. Nationalization of the key industries, securing our house Soviet-style, stripping the Germans of all property and giving it to my people... I was more than happy to go with all those. The man in front of me was not only giving me hope for a better tomorrow, he also promised to help us get there. For the first time in my life, someone offered to share my burden.

Everything changed when, one evening, we started to talk about foreign affairs. I was aware that he didn't have a very good relationship with America, still, I didn't really mind – we all have our preferences. As for me and Eva, I was imagining us more like a bridge between east and west. Unfortunately, he didn't share my point of view. He made it very clear that any beyond-necessary contact with western powers would have troublesome consequences for our friendship. I said that I understood, carefully avoiding any actual promise.

As he was leaving that night, he stopped to say goodbye to Eva, thanking her for the snacks (which was their usual amount of interaction). This time, he told her that the cake was exceptionally good that day and then, he – my jaw almost dropped when it happened – kissed her hand. When she closed the door behind him, her cheeks were as red as ripe apples. She looked like in a trance for a few days to come.

The next time Russia came, she suggested he stay for dinner.

"So what are you up to these days, except cooking the best borscht I've ever eaten, Miss Slovakia?" he asked.

"Missus," I commented coldly, but he didn't care and, following his words, Eva seemed to be in a different world altogether.

"Well, I…" She was studying the tablecloth, blushing like crazy.

" _My wife_ is currently working on issues like children allowance and wage disparity between genders," I said. Russia didn't even look at me, just went on eyeing Eva.

"Wonderful! Social policy. You are perfectly right that common people should be in the heart of our interests. You are one lucky man." He finally turned to face me. "Your spouse is both lovely _and_ clever. Why even look at another woman?!"

My lips parted, but no words came, so I lowered my gaze. On the contrary, Eva looked up again, her eyes lit up with an unknown flame.

I felt that the tables had just turned. In more than one way.

That night, he stayed until small hours again. This time, in _her_ office.

* * *

 _(A/N: German minority became the scapegoat to the Czechoslovaks and their hunger for retribution. Germans were forced out of the country, first in savage, then in a more organised, even legal way (special new laws were passed for this purpose). They lost their rights, property and citizenship and could only take away their essentials - all this independently of their past. A similar concept was requested to be applied on the local Hungarians, but that never happened._

 _And this is where the conflict with Lichtenstein comes from. Czechoslovaks stripped the famous dynasty of its possessions, too. About 1600 km2, so if it never happened, Lichtenstein would be about 11 times bigger! No wonder they got so angry... Anyway, this lasted until 2009, when the tiny nation just gave up and the three of them made peace.)_

* * *

Before too long, he ate with us at least once a week, ever praising Eva's food, ever repeating how fierce and brave she showed herself during the revolt, ever flattering her on how she dressed, how she looked, how she was. He gave her special looks. He always agreed with what she'd said. Making me feel like I was the odd one out, making her feel like the queen of his world.

And I knew exactly what was going on - I'd been there, done that so many times myself. He was selling her a dream.

What for, I wasn't sure. As a fellow male, I was betting on his getting under her skirt. So I tried to warn her.

"You're just jealous because for once, everything doesn't revolve around you." She snorted, rolling her eyes.

"Eva, trust me. I'm a womanizer - you said it yourself. I recognize a colleague when I see one."

If looks could kill, my tombstone would say 'Murdered by a Russia Fangirl in 1946'.

"Just because _you_ stick it anywhere you can doesn't mean everybody does!" she spat and stormed out of the room. Had she grabbed a bottle of vodka and smashed it against my face, it wouldn't have hurt half as much.

Even so, I understood. She saw what she wanted to see. He was powerful, charismatic and not short on looks, either. And, from all the women he could have, he was courting her. _Her._

Russia would also send gifts "to thank us for our cooperation and hospitality". Clearly they were not for us rather than for her. At first, it was mainly little things – flowers, rare food, theatre tickets. Until, once, he sent a dress. ' _Pure Chinese silk',_ the note said. I told Eva to give it back, but before I could finish the sentence, she had it on. I raised my voice and repeated myself. She laughed in my face and left.

I clenched my fists and closed my eyes, convincing myself that it was just temporary, that I shouldn't jeopardize my relationship with either of them. I didn't really know for how long I'd be able to keep it up.

Then, one evening, he turned up at our doorstep, all dressed up, asking Eva out for "a business meeting". I looked him in the eye and told him that it was most inappropriate. That she was married. To me.

To my astonishment and infinite despair, she slipped outside and took his arm. I stared at her, unable to believe my eyes.

"It's a convenience marriage, Hynek. What did you expect?" she hissed before slamming the door right in my face.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 14-_


	15. Chapter 15

I decided to swallow my pride and just go to sleep – I was getting up early to go claim a loan from an American bank. We really needed the money. But all the chances were on our side, so when I pulled in at the parking lot, I was already imagining all those new industries we would introduce at Eva's place. _She'll fling herself into my arms and forget all about Russia,_ I thought, smiling from ear to ear.

"What do you mean, 'no'?!" I half-shouted, my smile from before gone to oblivion.

"It's no. As in 'no'. We don't give loans to enemy states."

"But I…" Before I could finish my sentence, the clerk slapped some papers on the table. They were in Cyrillic characters. I struggled to read it, my pulse quickening with every sentence until my temples throbbed. It was a pledge of military allegiance to the USSR. I'd seen it before – Russia gave it to me when he was visiting once. I had no intention to sign and no idea how to tell him. So I put it away somewhere in my office, playing for time and hoping that one day, it would just disappear. Eventually, it did.

And now, it reappeared, with Eva's name scribbled on the bottom.

I checked the date next her signature. It was the day when he dined with us the first time.

 _Eva, we need to talk._

* * *

 _(A/N: So Czechoslovaks almost got the loan, but when USA noticed what an anti-American atmosphere reigned in the country and how much they supported their opponent, they changed their mind.)_

* * *

"You can't just agree to something so important without consulting me first!" I tried my best not to shout, but still, I talked way louder than I wanted to.

"You do that all the time," Eva retorted, not a trace of emotion in her voice. She didn't even bothered to look at me, just went on drying the dishes.

"That's different. I don't want to bother you with politics. I'm the head of this family. I'm older. More experienced. More inte-" I stopped mid-sentence. Too late. She was already glaring daggers at me.

"Just go ahead and say I'm stupid!" she barked.

"You know damn well that's not what I was about to say!"

"But that's what you think," she breathed and threw the damped cloth into the sink, most likely imagining it was my face. After that, she left the room. And I just stood there, exasperated and clueless.

* * *

A few days after, I was touring our place and realized we were running out of food again. The UNRRA help was suspended some time ago and there were still no traces of the Marshall plan packages I had signed us up for. So I made a few phone calls.

 _Fuck._

"What do you mean, 'no longer on the list'?!"

"Well, you sent us a cancellation letter last week… Now if you'll excuse me, there are other nations who actually appreciate our help."

"Hold on! What letter?! There must be a mistake. I swear I've never sent anything! It's surely just a -"

"You haven't. Your wife has."

 _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

* * *

"Don't you realize what you've just done?!" I didn't even try to hold back anymore. I was yelling at her like a crazy person and it was coming from the heart. "We have fourteen million mouths to feed and you just -"

"He'll help." She snorted and rolled her eyes like the dumb teenager she was. Oh, how much I hated when she did that.

"I don't give a damn! You should have talked to me first, Eva Kučerová!"

"You know what?" Her cheeks were now pink, though not in the same way as when Russia was around. "For some reason, that name doesn't sound right to me anymore. I think I'll be changing it soon."

For the first time in our life, I felt like slapping her. The urge lasted a mere second, but just the idea that I was ready to hurt her made me instantly feel guilty. She took advantage of my absent-mindedness to head out of the room.

"You spoiled brat!" I shouted after her.

She snapped something back, then disappeared. I didn't understand what she called me; she never used that word before. I looked it up in her dictionary later that day. It was a nasty, nasty thing. Even to my standards.

Russia did send us food, eventually. But it was way too little and way too late. And the worst thing was, he made himself look like our savior.

* * *

 _(A/N: So this is what happened: USA suggested Czechoslovakia becomes a part of Marshall plan, but USSR waggled their finger and they decided to let it go. USSR sent some help to compensate for this sacrifice. Up to this day, it remains unclear whether the move was about solidarity or strategy (maybe both). The fact remains that, partially because of all the exported food, USSR itself was struck by a devastating famine.)_

* * *

Before too long, I started to feel weird. As if the contents of my stomach were constantly simmering. I thought it was just the pub food (Eva didn't even bother to cook anymore if Russia wasn't over), that I'd probably get used to it soon.

Then, my whole core started to hurt. Something was wrong, very wrong, but I didn't know what.

So I went to see our boss.

He had seemed particularly tired to me recently. But the look he gave me that very moment… It reminded me of something. Of a prey that had been doing all it could to escape the predator just to, in the end, found itself cornered with no means of escape. Doomed.

"What do you mean 'no choice'? What do you mean, you don't know what me and Slovakia would become?" I inquired in the softest voice possible.

I was aware of the democrats and communists being constantly at each other's throats. I also knew that lately, they had been taking it all a bit too far. But every time I asked, he would tell me that, for the time being, we need to stay calm and neutral. So I did.

What was actually happening these last few months, the months I'd felt more and more under the weather, was that communists had been infiltrating every sphere of the daily life and modifying it according to their needs. Democrats considered that unacceptable and decided to quit their jobs, convinced that my boss would refuse their resignation and finally decide to intervene. And that was when Russia's boss came around and told mine to let the democrats go. Or else.

"I can't afford to start a war. Especially not against them," he said in a worn out tone.

"I know."

For a while, none of us said a word.

"It's just… How did it come to this? I don't get it," he moaned, clasping the wrinkled hands over his head.

"He's a superpower. Has eyes and ears everywhere. It's that simple." I shrugged.

"No, I mean, doing everything so quickly and thoroughly… Every step perfectly calculated… As if… As if he'd had help from the inside..."

I froze.

 _No._

 _NO!_

 _That's not possible._

 _NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!_

 _She couldn't have..._

I said nothing. I couldn't. My heartbeat had quickened so much that there was no air left for speaking.

I closed my eyes and counted to ten. Then took a deep breath and opened them again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, helpless.

 _I'm sorrier,_ I felt like replying, but I just nodded and left.

* * *

 _Okay, calm down, man,_ I talked to myself while looking for Eva. _We have enemies. It could have been anyone. Anyone. There's no actual proof that..._

"I don't see why it bugs you so much," she mumbled, mouth full of caviar (!). She didn't even try to deny it. "I was tired of all those politicians arguing with each other. And you two didn't do anything. So I asked him for help."

Just like with our boss, I nodded and left. I walked calmly out of the house and entered the shed. I took my axe, exited the shed and yelled, yelled, yelled while smashing the shelter until it became just an untidy pile of wood. After that, I started to yell again and smash what was left, shortly going out of breath. And then I yelled and smashed some more. Once I got rid of all the adrenaline, I went to find her again.

"I didn't do anything because having several parties arguing with each other is a good thing."

She stared at me as if I was nuts.

"Nonsense. Now we have one party. The best one. Doesn't that make it easier?"

And then, I came to my limit.

"No, it doesn't," I whispered, sinking to my knees. "Don't you see, Eva? Don't you realize what is happening? We're no longer a parliamentary democracy. You gave him the keys to our house. On a silver plate."

"Well, that's a good thing, isn't it? I'll move in with Russia and you can go live with Hungary."

Her words couldn't reach my heart; I didn't feel pain anymore. And she didn't mean them, I knew that. It was just her silly way of convincing herself everything was alright. But it wasn't. Not any longer.

* * *

 _(A/N: In 1948, communist party was elected, their power soon becoming absolute. The economy was rebuilt to follow the Soviet example and any opposition silenced in various, often radical ways (I think you've all heard the stories). The period between 1948 and 1953 is considered the harshest part of communist era in Czechoslovakia.)_

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 15-_


	16. Chapter 16

Just as expected, our situation quickly deteriorated. Russia's control over us reached its peak; all of the politicians were his friends, after all. And his attitude changed accordingly. When visiting, he would always act as if he was at his own place, treating us like his slaves (which we were). We didn't have a right to do, desire or even think anything that he didn't approve of, his constant stalking growing more unbearable with every day.

At last, I understood why he was courting Eva. He wanted power. Not only over her as a woman, over us as a country. And since he wasn't getting anywhere with me, he decided to take the back door.

They would still go out together. He requested we divorce; neither of us wanted to. He didn't insist, probably thinking that, considering how cold we grew towards each other, our separation was bound to come sooner or later. In the meantime, he forbade Eva to wear her wedding ring to their dates. She objected. In the end, they agreed she would wear lady gloves anytime she was escorting him.

I remember how startled she was as the doorbell rang that evening. I let her get the door. She started to frenetically adjust her hair. Her gait reminded me of those walking to their own execution.

"Ready to go?" he asked, cold and composed, taking no note of me in the background. I was now invisible to him.

It wasn't really a question, but if it was, the look on her face would be the best possible answer.

"Don't sweat. There will be no bloodshed. Not tonight. Where we're going, waiters know better than to mix water into vodka." He smiled sweetly. Eva took a hesitant step forward.

"Hold on a second. What's with that dress?!" he inquired, the smile instantly gone.

She blinked, lost for breath, wrapping the shaky white arms around herself.

"I-it's the silk dress y-you got me," she stuttered. She had been stuttering in his presence for some time now. "Remember, I-Ivan?"

"How many times have we been through this?! You may only call me Ivan in public. Otherwise it's Mr. Russia to you."

"I-I am sorry, Mr. R-Ru-"

"And get rid of that dress. From now on, you'll only wear plain Russian cotton. We take example in common people, don't you dare forget it. Now put on some heels and move it."

"I… I… I'd rather not, I..." Oh, yes. She wasn't much of a heel girl. Most of the time she was just running around barefoot. Lady shoes hurt her feet and not feeling the ground underneath always made her insecure.

"Did I stutter? Heels. Now." She obeyed and accepted the arm he offered her.

"You really should start wearing makeup," he commented. "Some days, you're just not much to look at. Do something about you hair, too. And your-"

I couldn't let them go just like that. For some reason, I had a bad feeling about it. I sprang up and ran after them.

"Wait! I'm coming, too."

Eva's mouth parted in surprise. Russia laughed in my face.

"Whatever, come if you want. Still, I think they already have enough staff."

I ignored his comment, concentrating on the teeny-tiny smile that was now gracing Eva's lips. It was the first time she smiled at me in two decades.

As we arrived at the party, the general mood seemed pretty good. _Maybe we will be spending an evening without incidents after all._

Then, all the faces turned to look at us.

"Поцелуй меня," I suddenly heard Russia hiss to Eva. I froze and so did she.

"Ч-что?" she managed shakily, leaning in.

He met her halfway, smashing his lips against hers. They stayed like that for a few seconds. Seconds that seemed like eternity.

Once he pulled away, he took a firm hold of her waist.

"Now smile. And look pretty. Can you do that?"

She nodded, even though, once again, that wasn't really a question. I let them walk away. There wasn't much I could do, anyway. And she wanted that all along, didn't she?

I spent most of the night drinking at the bar. Only a few hours later, I dared look at Eva again. Maybe it was thanks to the alcohol that I finally saw her for whom she was - a terrified little girl who just wanted to be loved. Who was now walking around like a zombie, with a fake smile plastered on that beaten and dishonoured face. And somewhere deep inside, I felt like crying.

She'd surely fantasized about the two of them kissing. But that wasn't a kiss he gave her. It was a stamp. A way to show everybody that, from the two men who walked by her side, she was _his_. His property.

The glances he gave her, the whole demeanor he held in her presence were no longer weapons of seduction, but ones of fear. She was now nothing more than his cute little something to show off, his trophy.

Eva had stopped wanting him a long time ago; now she went on with the game because she had to. And she didn't mind keeping him company, talking to him, not even holding his hand. But kisses, kisses are special. Kisses are intimate. There is a good reason why even whores don't kiss.

He made her sink lower than a whore. And that broke her.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 16-_

* * *

Translations:

Поцелуй меня. (in Russian) = "Kiss me."

Что? (in Russian) = "What?"


	17. Chapter 17

We got back home at about three in the morning. I was just drifting off when a racket from the kitchen woke me up with a start. I ran to check on Eva.

She was kneeling on the floor, towering over a pile of mess that used to be our dishes. Next to it lied a shelf. It must have fallen from the cupboard, taking all the china along.

"I… I didn't mean to," she breathed almost inaudibly, looking at the mess. It was the set we got as a wedding gift, with our names written on each piece. "I've ruined everything… I didn't… didn't mean to..."

I knelt down next to her, searching for her eyes, curtained by the mousy hair. I noticed how greasy it was. No wonder - during the last few weeks, she never stopped touching it. And now I understood why. She had to be flawless for Russia, so biting her lip was out of question. This was her new nervous gesture.

"I've ruined it," she wept, taking hold of two shards which used to be a plate, trying to put them together.

For a while I considered hugging her, then dropped the idea. I didn't know whether she'd want me to. I wasn't sure whether I wanted to, either.

"Eva, look at me." I gingerly touched her arm. She didn't acknowledge me.

"You didn't ruin it. _We_ ruined it; it's obvious I didn't attach the shelf properly in the very beginning."

She shook her head. I went on talking anyway.

"But it's not too late. The pieces are still here. It will just take some time and a great deal of glue. Now help me collect what's left."

She found a bucket and, little by little, we collected everything. As we both reached out for the last shard, our eyes met. Hers were tired, tired beyond words.

"Go get some sleep now-" _Princess_ , I almost added, but I didn't. I wasn't quite ready yet to call her that again. I stood up and picked up the china bits, aiming for my office.

Once I closed the door, I started to rummage in the bucket, trying to figure out which shards belonged together. Then, I just smirked at myself and threw the china into the bin. _To hell with it, it's kitschy as fuck anyway._

I remembered the time we opened the box with Eva. We both burst out laughing at how incredibly tacky those plates and cups and saucers looked, instantly deciding we would only use them on a _very_ special occasion (which meant never). But sometimes, in secret, I would just open the cupboard and contemplate its contents, thinking about that pleasant moment we shared over it. I guessed she was doing the same earlier that evening.

 _Now, let's glue the pieces together._

I entered our library and got a book. Then another. And another. On the way back to my office, I checked on Eva. She was sleeping soundly on the couch where I was napping earlier. I couldn't find a quilt, so I covered her with my jacket.

"Mmmm… Cake," she mumbled from her dream.

I didn't sleep much that night, neither during the months to come. I read, I wrote, I did research, made phone calls, traveled around, attended meetings, gave speeches and looked for answers, the picture of a certain brunette constantly filling my mind.

 _Ach, co bych pro ni neudělal…_ The things I did for her...

* * *

Before too long, all those efforts started to pay. People held their backs straight again. Or straighter, at least. They went on talking in hushed voices, but now, those were tinged with hope rather than fear. Artists wrote what they truly thought. Priests preached again. Government and secret police were losing their power. And commoners followed whom they wanted to follow. Slowly but surely, the tension seemed to be dissipating.

And Eva learnt to smile again. Even earlier that night, napping on the couch like she often would, she was smiling from her dream. I was sitting in an armchair nearby, pretending to be doing some paperwork, looking up every now and then to contemplate that pink, doll-like face.

Then, all of a sudden, her eyes shot wide open and she started to choke. I sprang up and ran towards her. She was trembling, convulsing with the cramps and shivers that encompassed her body.

"He's… He's coming," she rushed out. "He and his army… They're here…"

Of course they were. I was starting to feel ill myself. An old wound on my back suddenly opened and bled again. But there was only one thing on my mind that very moment.

"Eva, give me your ring," I ordered.

I knew he'd come; it was just a matter of time. I didn't want to worry Eva, so I never told her. She didn't need to know. I'd thought everything through.

Having caught her breath again, she looked at me, dumbfounded, the resolutely shook her head.

"Hand me the damn ring and run. Run to the closest western port. There will be a boat waiting for you. Once you've crossed the ocean, you-"

"No!" she shrieked. "I'm not leaving my children! I can't!"

I grabbed her hand, forcing the ring off. She tore away from me.

"I'll take care of them, run! Now!"

She shook her head again, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I can't. He's already got my body-"

"But not your soul yet. And your people will never truly be his as long your soul runs free. Go! Fucking go! NOW!"

The Earth was now quaking under our feet. The roof over our heads disappeared and the sky started to rumble. A noise, a blood-curdling, spine-chilling noise seemed to be everywhere, gaining in intensity with each second.

"It's too late. I'm coming with him," Eva said.

"Take the ring off!" I yelled. She didn't move.

"It's too late. He'd catch me anyway. I have no choice."

"You do!" I yelled, gesturing vividly. "As long as I w-" I shook my head, trying to concentrate on what really mattered. "But take it off! Deny this marriage! He'll spare you. He has a weak spot for you! He'll favour you! Just take it off!"

I knew all along that what I was doing needed to be done, even though it might have this kind of consequences. And I was ready to accept them. But _she_ wasn't aware of my deeds and didn't deserve to be punished for them. The thing was, we were married and in marriage, you share everything. The only way to save her soul would be to separate from each other.

" _Nie!_ " she cried. "I'm not losing you again!"

"Eva, if you love me, TAKE IT OFF!"

We held each other's gaze for a second - probably the longest second of my life. That second, we forgave each other everything.

After that, the walls went tumbling down. Her eyes widened and she started to scream, staring at something right behind me. Or, rather, someone.

But I could only look at her right hand. The hand that was trying to pull off her wedding ring.

Then, my body filled with unspeakable pain and I collapsed on the ground.

I once lied with a certain middle-aged woman. She had three children; her husband was gone forever. I couldn't resist asking her how she could deal with such a thing. Having lost someone she loved and go on living knowing that, any day, she might lose her children, too.

She smiled bittersweetly.

"That's the way love works. You do all you can. And then, you just hope."

Words can't describe the love I had for Eva. She was my child, my sister, my mother, my wife, my best friend. My everything. And I did my utmost. And more. For _her_.

But, in the end, the woman was right.

As I went falling to the ground, I couldn't tear my eyes off the ring slowly sliding from her finger. And I just hoped.

I hoped with all I had.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 17-_

* * *

 _(A/N: The Prague Spring of 1968 was a short period of time when the government of Czechoslovakia tried to democratize the country and alleviate the impact Moscow had on the nation's affairs. It ended with a Soviet invasion.)_

* * *

 _-END OF PART 1-_

* * *

 **Okay, but… what happens now?!**

 **The Invasion was followed by a period called normalization, when Moscow did everything to restore the firm and basically unlimited rule of the Communist Party in Czechoslovakia.**

 **I decided the best allegory for this situation was Hynek and Eva being forcefully brought to Ivan's house and held there, possibly to learn 'the proper values of communism'. But please note that real Czechoslovakia has never been a part of the actual Soviet Union, just a satellite.**

 **To sum up: although still following the history line, I'll be getting very creative.**

 **Thank you for reading so far and see you soon for the part two!**


	18. Chapter 18

**PART 2**

 _This part of the story covers the period from 1969 to 1989. It's clear that, compared to the first half (which takes place throughout more than a millennium), there will be less historical events. I also wanted to have more fun this time, so the result is full of fiction, especially in terms of friendships, love affairs and various intriguing aspects of human nature._

 _Kindly note that there is no actual source suggesting an outstandingly good relationship between Czechoslovakia and Lithuania. But I love the Lithuania character, so I made the three of them friends ^^_

 _Whichever country you're from, please don't take any of this personally. It's all for fun._

 _English is my second language. Story wasn't proofread._

 _From the literary point of view, I'll be switching from 1st person narrator to 3rd person. The 1st person is **always** Hynek (Czechia). There will also be some flashbacks, so watch out for titles in bold characters to guide you through the time and space. Hope it won't get confusing._

 _One last thing before we start: Warnings._

 _\- Some foul language_

 _\- A few trashy moments_

 _\- Violence – mostly in the first chapters (starring Russia and Belarus)._

 _\- Alcohol and light drugs - In **no way** I'm promoting their consumption. But you're clever enough to know that much_

 _\- A bit more (suggested) sex than I originally planned_

 _And last but not least... Plenty of misunderstandings (some really hilarious) and emotions, good as well as bad ones. Just like in life._

 _So, without further ado, here comes a double chapter._

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

 _(A/N:_ 'Truth prevails' ('Pravda vítězí') _is a Czech national motto.)_

* * *

I woke up. The hunted animal reflexes immediately kicked in.

 _Don't open your eyes. Don't move. don't breathe. Otherwise, he will finish you off._

 _Who is_ he _?_

 _Where am I and what happened?_

I could not remember. My whole body was sore, but the excruciating pain in my left temple overpowered any other sensations.

 _Alright. Let's start with what I know._

 _My name is Czechia._

 _I'm the child of Bohemia, Moravia and Czech Silesia._

 _78,866 km2 in size. Population of 9,897,697. GDP equal to..._

 _Numbers. Numbers are good. Numbers are exact. They are everywhere, they are the truth and the truth prevails… Just like the pain I feel._

 _Pain. That means I have a human body, too._

 _I remember now._

 _My name is Hynek Kučera._

 _I'm 25 years old._

 _176 cm tall. 77,5 kg in weight._

 _Numbers again. Those numbers feel reassuring. They mean I'm young. Strong. Well-built._

 _What happened then?_

A sharp kick in the stomach made my eyes shoot wide open. I twisted and choked, clutching the hurting spot. Once I regained my spirits, the first thing I saw was a familiar man with fair hair, an unnaturally innocent look plastered on his face.

"Up already?" He grinned.

* * *

 **Moscow, 1969**

I blinked.

"Russia. Comrade. What happened?"

For a while, he looked a bit taken aback. Then, he laughed out loud.

"Are you serious? You don't remember a thing?!"

I shook my head and the terrible pain reappeared again in all its splendor, distorting my features. Immediately I realized how vulnerable I had just made myself look. Too late.

"Weren't we allies?" I asked.

"This is hilarious." He went on chuckling. "I wanted to be here to see your face when you finally wake up. Now that you don't remember anything, it's even more enjoyable!"

I felt the anger rising inside me. Afraid it would worsen my already splitting headache, I tried my best to calm down.

"What happened?" I ventured once again.

"Oh, lots of things," said the man towering over me. "I'm not going through everything. But you can ask me questions. Yes, let's play a game. Little insignificant countries like you love games, don't they?" He gave out another innocent chuckle.

Despite the blood boiling in my veins, I managed to keep my face expressionless.

"Now, let's call it _True or False_. I suppose you can figure out the rules, _da_?" The Russian smiled, sitting down next to me.

I gave him a slight nod. Clenching my teeth to overcome the pain, I somehow managed to sit up. Even like that, he was still taller than me.

"Since it's me who suggested to play, you may go first."

I rubbed my eyes. _Stay lucid._

"First things first. What happens if one of us doesn't tell the truth?" I inquired.

"So funny you should ask that." My companion giggled. "Let's say that if you dare lie to me, you will get hit at your weakest spot with this." He undid his coat to reveal a heavy-looking steel pipe.

 _So this is why my head hurts so bad._

"Pretty much what I expected. But what if _you_ lie?" I pressed.

Russia sat back.

"I've got no reason to lie," he declared matter-of-factly.

"But if you do, you will let me go and stop interfering with my life. For good."

"Why not." He shrugged. "Now that it's clear, we can go ahead. Ask away, _tovarish_."

I thought for a while, looking around the unknown room. It was as basic and neutral as it gets, giving out no hints whatsoever.

"I'm at your house as your prisoner. True or false?"

"That's an easy one," he commented. "True, of course. You are my prisoner now. And that won't be changing anytime soon."

 _We'll see about that,_ I almost spat, seething rage taking over me once again. _No. I must remain calm. If I lose my temper, I'll lose everything._

"Anyway, my turn. You have been trying to get closer to the west recently. True or false?"

I froze. I had indeed been in touch with a few so-called sworn enemies of socialism. Regarding sympathies, I didn't like them more than Ivan. But my economy was suffering and my people's spirit went down in the dumps. Peeking over the Iron Curtain was the best way to learn how to give it all a boost again. So, yes, I was guilty as charged.

Luckily, Ivan's accusation was a rather vague one.

"True. One should know his enemies better than his friends."

He tilted his head sideways, thinking.

"Sure. There's no arguing with you on that."

 _Of course there isn't. Now let's find out some more about my friends and foes._

"And that is why you took me away. You took my house by force. The Warsaw Pact armies helped you."

"Nice guess." He nodded in approval. "They know what's best for them. My turn again. You have been steadily turning away from me. You even created new laws that violated Soviet values. I presume it was all a part of a futile fight for what that moron from behind the ocean considers freedom. True or false?"

Having heard that, I couldn't decide whether to puff or sigh.

"True and false." I half-smiled.

"Why, _tovarish_?"

 _Like you could ever understand._

"Ivan, the thing is, you can't control everything, you can't just tell a lie and expect the facts to change along. Your politics hides so much, lies so much. I couldn't possibly go along with that. Ever," I said, laying particular emphasis on the last word. "At my place, we seek the truth," I went on. "We hear the truth, learn the truth, love the truth, speak the truth, hold the truth and defend the truth until death. The truth prevails. It always does. Don't you think?"

All I got as a reply was a snort.

"Tell me, when exactly have you turned from a perfect _bolshevik_ into such a smug piece of shit?"

Silence fell on the room as I chose not to react. Something infinitely more important was bothering me from the very moment I regained my consciousness. _The light of my life. What happened to her?_ It was time to find out.

"I'm not the only prisoner you took at my place. True or false?" I leaned in and we fixed each other for a while, the tension growing almost palpable.

"Again, funny you should ask. I did find a familiar young lady in your house. Your wife. True or false?" Ivan raised an eyebrow.

My heart stopped for a while. My mouth went dry. Of course it was her. But I expected him to come for me and punish me, so I made sure she becomes a sovereign country just in time to be spared.

"False. We divorced. She only came to see me for business," I said, surprised myself how cool and collected I sounded.

He looked at me for a while, fingers steepled, chin up.

 _Yes, you fucker. I outwitted you. Deal with it,_ I inwardly sneered.

"Are you sure?" Russia asked as he went on eyeing me, his voice emotionless.

Was I? I told her how important it was to leave me. Asked her to do it as a proof of her love for me. And I could still picture those long white fingers pulling the wooden ring off. So, yes. I was.

"Of course I am," I retorted without hesitation.

Silence.

"Alright then." His innocent smile reappeared. "Our little game was fun, but I'm afraid I have more important matters to attend now. As for you, _tovarish_ , you look like shit. You know what? As a welcome gift, I'll send you a healer. Broken toys are no fun to play with anyway."

He stood up and left the room, chuckling. I closed my eyes and breathed out.

Minutes later, I heard timid footsteps approach, followed by a hesitant knock on the door. I couldn't believe my eyes when Eva entered. Her face and limbs were covered in light sores, but all in all, she seemed safe and sound.

"Hyňo!" she beamed as soon as she saw me, almost crying with relief. I just stared at her, clueless. She ran to me and we hugged, holding each other close for a good while. Even though I still had no idea what she was doing there, it didn't really matter. Eva was with me, I could smell her hair, touch her skin, hear her breathe. And I just wished we could stay like that forever, wrapped in each other's arms.

Once she pulled away, she noticed my swollen temple and reached out to touch it. Her hand flashed in front of my eyes and... _No, that's not possible._

In a split second, I grabbed it and had a good look. _No, please, no,_ I mentally begged. _Let this be just a misunderstanding. Or a bad joke. Or a weird dream. Anything, just not..._

"Eva," I whispered. She looked down. To avoid my gaze. Certainly not to contemplate the old wedding ring that was still on her hand.

"I… I couldn't… I couldn't do it," she stuttered. "You could have let me go so many times before, but you never did. I just wanted to stay by your side. _Spoločne sme silnejší,_ " she breathed as she looked up again, eyes filled with tears.

I inhaled deeply. And that was that. I had no idea what to say. There are no words for that kind of occasion.

"But don't worry about a thing!" Eva forced herself to sound cheerful and optimistic. "He told me I would do the housekeeping and be Miss Belarus's maid. And since they need a healer, they won't get rid of me just like that. I'm staying in this house, right by your side," she murmured affectionately.

I took one more breath and parted my lips, but again, nothing came out.

She asked me to lie down. Then, she smiled sweetly, caressing my sweaty forehead for a little while before cleaning and dressing my wounds.

I screwed my eyes shut and gave in to her touch; I knew it was our last peaceful moment before long. Very, very long.

"Now come with me, we'll find you a room. You need to get some rest."

By then, my mind had grown completely hazy. I just wanted to go down on my knees and laugh hysterically, but that wouldn't do either of us any good.

Supported by Eva, I stood up and we slowly walked to the door. Stepping out, we ran into a familiar face, the equally familiar innocent smile still on.

"You lied to me, Czechia," he said sweetly.

For a while, we both froze. Eva gave me a puzzled look. I gestured for her to move aside.

"You remember what happens if you lie to me?"

"Turn around, close your eyes and plug your ears," I said to her as calmly as possible.

She didn't move, just went on staring at me. She must have felt something bad was about to happen.

"Now! _Please!_ " I cried out. She nodded shakily and followed the orders, her delicate form nearly paralyzed with terror.

Russia grabbed my chin, plunging his eyes into mine.

"Look at me and answer my question! Do you know what happens when you lie to me? Do you?" he shouted in my face.

"Yes, you already told me." I did my best to stand tall, wondering for how long I'd be able to keep it up. "You will hit my most vulnerable spot," I hissed so that Eva would not hear us.

Russia's grin instantly turned from innocent to sadistic.

I had to fight the urge to reach out and protect my temple. It still hurt like hell and I was worried another blow there might crack my skull. But that was something I should have thought of earlier. _Come what may now, I will deal with it._

Caught up in my thoughts, I didn't notice the Russian move aside until it was too late.

A flash of shiny metal. A loud, hollow sound. And Eva, my dear Eva, the apple of my eye, the sun of my world, collapsing on the ground.

I jumped and grabbed her, desperately looking for signs of life. She bled. A lot. But, thank God, she was still breathing. I glanced up.

Ivan stood there, dominating, smiling. Ever smiling.

"The truth prevails. It always does. Don't you think?" He winked.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 18-_

* * *

 _(A/N: The violent blows both Hynek and Eva received are a metaphor for the Warsaw Pact Invasion (also known as Operation Danube). Around a hundred Czechoslovaks were killed and many more wounded. Just imagine: this was an army representing hundreds of millions of citizens attacking a country of roughly fifteen millions. For no good reason at all. That was where Europe realized that people in the Eastern Bloc were not free anymore.)_


	19. Chapter 19

Once Ivan left, I checked the spot where Eva got hit. Exactly the same situation as mine - nothing broken, no stitches necessary, but the pain would never fully go away. And there was nothing I could do about it.

I found an empty bedroom and tucked her in, kissing her forehead. Then, I went to find him again.

He was standing on his front porch, contemplating the heavy-looking gray skies.

"She doesn't belong here. Let her go. She didn't do anything wrong," I spoke. He didn't even turn around.

"She did. She married you."

I said nothing.

"I couldn't possibly judge her for that - convenience is convenience. But when she refused to leave you even though I asked her to, even though I offered an alternative, she signed her own death warrant."

"Let her go," I repeated.

"Have no fear, though. She'll be fine. I'll watch over her from now on. Personally."

I didn't know whether he was serious or just trying to tease me. I didn't know what awaited us. I didn't even know what would happen within the following seconds. The only thing I knew was that I hated that man. Without limit.

"Let. Her. Go!" I shouted in his face. He chose to reply with action. And damn, was he quick.

A split second later, I was lying on the ground, trying to figure out what had just happened while literally biting the dust. He stamped on my head and rubbed my face in the filth.

"Oh, how good you look, finally at your place." His laugh was loud, tinged with craziness. I summoned all the strength I could and shook him off.

"I know you like her. So don't hurt her anymore just to make a point," I requested as I stood up again, brushing off the dirt.

"Oh, I'm afraid that won't be possible. I'm not good at showing mercy. Unless you're asking me to save all of her punishments for you." He raised one eyebrow, amusement written all over his face.

"If that's what it takes to keep her from harm."

He looked me over from head to toe, shook his head dismissively and snorted.

"You know what? Nobody wants you around. Nobody ever has. Yet you still exist. But that's fine with me - it's fun to watch."

I looked him in the eye. There was a strange, new gleam there. I braced myself for another attack. This time, he wouldn't surprise me. But he did. He didn't move at all, just went on eyeing me.

"I can tell exactly what you're thinking," he continued. "That you'll get both of you out of this place, even if it means burning it down to ashes. But trust me, I'm not like the others. This will be a whole new level to you. So, what do you say, _home_ _ruler_? A ruler with a dirty face? Are you ready to face and beat the white king?"

"Always," I instantly retorted, trying to sound as neutral as he did. And to hide just how tired I was both mentally and physically. Ivan smiled so widely his eyes narrowed.

"Wonderful. Can't wait." And with that, he turned around to leave.

"I almost forgot." He stopped in his tracks. "I have no idea what is going on between you two and I don't particularly wish to know. In any event, I don't tolerate couples in this house. Now give me your ring."

I complied without a word. Rings had already caused us enough problems as it was. And they were mere symbols, after all.

"From now on, if anyone asks, you're brother and sister. Not that it really matters; you're not allowed in the mansion, so you won't be meeting many people. Actually, you're permitted to approach no one except my family. If you want to talk to anyone else, you'll have to get my consent first, just like others do. Although nobody would want to see you, anyway. I've already warned them about what would happen if they do. A lose-lose situation, I dare say."

Again that saccharine smile, so big it threatened to split his head in two halves.

"What about Eva?"

He faked a sigh.

"I've just told you. But I suppose you're just too much of a dimwit to understand right away. I'll try to make it even simpler: you plus her minus my consent equals trouble."

I was inclined to just bury my head in the dirt again and pretend I didn't exist. Alas, in his presence, that wasn't an option.

"Let's face it - you're both pitiful," he scoffed. "But she's naive because she's pure and innocent, while you… you're no good. You're bad news. So just let her go. You've brought her enough trouble as it is. Now get out of my sight. Belarus here will show you to your chambers."

I turned around. And if it wasn't for the pain and the overall shitiness of my current situation, nothing would have stopped that perky grin that started to spread across my face.

In the doorway where Russia disappeared seconds ago stood probably the hottest woman I'd ever seen. She looked… Well, the way Ivan would have looked if he had been a girl. Long blond hair, deep violet eyes. And that body. Men must have been killing one another over it.

Moreover, knowing that my enemy had a sister meant something else, too - a weak spot. A back door.

I gave her a shy smile and my most tender, caressing look. She blushed a little, quickly lowering her eyes. I ventured a step forward. Then another. And a few more, until I stood right in front of her. She hadn't moved a bit, still contemplating the ground.

"I've heard women here are beautiful. But you… you took my breath away," I said softly, reaching out to brush a stray lock behind her ear.

And for the second time in ten minutes' span, I suddenly found myself lying on the ground with no idea what had just happened. This time, I got a bonus - a pain in my shin so piercing it overshadowed even the one in my temple.

"Don't you dare, fuckface," the blonde spat, adjusting her shoe. I moaned into the dust.

"Now move it. I don't have all day." She didn't even let me get up, just grabbed my hair, tearing out a few strands while she literally kicked me down the stairs. A moment later, I came to my senses again and stood up, following her on my own feet. She walked quickly, not stopping before we reached a rather scary-looking forest.

"This is where I leave you," she said, stoic. "Don't get too comfortable, though. I'm watching you. Same applies to the little shit you brought along. Treat her well, brother told me. But I don't give a damn. I see her close to him, she'll suffer the consequences." The look in her eyes was enough to creep the hell even out of a man like me. But this was Eva's life she was talking about.

In one swift movement, I took her down, straddling her and plucking her against the ground with nothing but my weight. I was rather impressed at how cool she remained - she just winked and reached out towards her waist. It was only then that she panicked.

That moment, it was my turn to wink. I grabbed both of her hands and pinned them down, while, with my free hand, waggling a knife in front of her face.

"Looking for this?" I grinned. She showed me all of her teeth before spitting in my face. There wasn't much more she could do in her position.

"Now here comes a fun fact," I started, tracing her lips with the blade. "I don't mean to brag, but I'm rather skilled at wood-carving. I don't know whether I'd be just as good with human flesh. But should you so much as touch the girl, I swear I'll -"

I didn't get a chance to finish my sentence, a familiar pleasant sensation suddenly filling my senses. I looked down and realized her hips were brushing against mine. I glanced at her face again and… yelled as loudly as my lungs let me. She took advantage of my distraction and bashed her kneecap against my… Well, you can see what. For a while, I just rolled on the ground. My body was in so much pain now that I wished I was dead.

"Now here comes a fun fact!" she snapped, towering over me. "I don't mean to brag, but I'm rather skilled at being a heartless bitch. And I swear I won't rest until I see the two of you leave this house."

 _Finally something we have in common,_ I thought. When the black spots in front of my eyes finally disappeared, I noticed she was already on her way back.

"Hey, where do I sleep?!"

"Here, moron," she yelled back, still walking. I took a look around. Snow. And forest. Fucking snow and forest everywhere. And, of course, not a trace of a shelter. Whatsoever.

"You really think I can survive a night here? In the middle of nowhere?!"

"One way to find out." She laughed playfully before disappearing in the house.

 _Fuck this shit,_ my mind and body declared and I passed out.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 19-_


	20. Chapter 20

Still half-asleep, Eva squirmed. She could feel something cold and uninviting right next to her. Instinctively, she moved away.

"At last. I thought you'd never wake up."

The emotion-free voice brought her back to reality. She opened her eyes, looking at the familiar man for a while. She tried to sit up, but a piercing pain at the back of her head made every movement a torture.

"You fell from the stairs. Here. This will help." Ivan handed her some painkillers and a glass of water. Eva didn't even look at those items.

"Czechia. Where is he?"

"He's not here anymore."

The girl blinked.

"Where is he?"

"You don't need to know."

"He is my husband. I'll follow him."

"Before he left, he gave me this." Russia reached into his pocket and retrieved a handmade wooden ring. Eva's lips parted.

"It doesn't take much to see through your 'marriage'. So kindly do me a favor and stop referring to him as your husband. He's your brother. Period. Now give me your ring."

The Slovak had no such intention.

"I see. Would you prefer if I burnt it off your finger?"

Disgusted Eva said nothing, just obeyed.

"What is it? You've always been going on and on about how you hated his guts, how you wanted to be independent. Why go looking for him now? He's skilled and clever, he would have a good life if he didn't have such a burden to tag along. Just let him go. You've brought him enough trouble as it is."

Speechless, the brunette stared blankly in front of her. Ivan left. Once alone, she reached out to feel the sore spot.

"I fell from the stairs," she whispered, intrigued.

* * *

Still half-asleep, I squirmed. I could feel something warm and inviting right next to me. Instinctively, I moved closer.

"At last. I thought you'd never wake up."

The soft voice brought me back to reality. I opened my eyes, looking at the unfamiliar half-naked woman for a while.

 _Okay, man, don't panic. This has happened before. The odds of your guessing right are equal to zero. So just be honest and hope she won't get too violent._

"I'm awfully sorry," I breathed in a pained voice as I sat up. "but I can't remember your name."

"That's understandable." She smiled. She was a cute blonde with a pretty, round face, something caring and affectionate written all over it. "We've never been introduced. I'm Ukraine, Russia's big sister."

What a relief.

"Nice to meet you. I'm -"

"Czechia. I know." The woman called Ukraine kept on smiling.

"How can you tell?"

"You're wearing flag underwear." She shrugged.

Oh, yes. That was another thing that made me wonder.

"Would you please help me understand how we ended up in the same bed wearing nothing but our underwear?"

"Well, my little sister was supposed to guide you through the forest and bring you here. It was getting dark and I still had no news, so I came looking for you. When I found you, you were frozen all over. Unfortunately, I don't have hot water here and the fireplace is out of order… which is one of the reasons why you'll be staying here with me. I need somebody manual to help me fix all this stuff. Anyways, I didn't really know how to unthaw you, so I used my own warmth. That's why we're stripped. Did you…" Her hand shot up towards her mouth to cover it. "Did you think we…?" She turned red.

"No, no, of course not!" I rushed out. "It's just…" I sighed and lied down again. "Forgive me. These last months weren't exactly easy. I got invaded. Almost died. Got kidnapped. I witnessed my wi-, I mean, my _sister_ almost dying. I was forced to leave her. Got beaten up twice, the second time by a teenage girl. And almost froze to death."

"Welcome to the Eastern Bloc, comrade."

* * *

 _Time to meet Miss Belarus,_ Eva thought as she finished unpacking. She adjusted her hair, turned around and almost had a heart attack.

A tall blonde, probably the same age, was standing in front of her, far too close for comfort. But she was so strikingly beautiful that Eva could only stare. And she would have probably just gone on staring if it hadn't been for the massive knife pointed at her chest.

"Err… Hello." She even managed a smile. "I'm Sl-"

"I know who you are!" the other girl spat. "And you're just about to learn who _I_ am. You're a Slav, too, I suppose? You look like one."

Eva nodded, careful not to shake too much. It might be a painful experience.

"Remember what we used to do to worship our heathen gods?"

"Errr… Dancing around bonfires?" the brunette tried.

"I had something else in mind," her new acquaintance said sweetly. "See this knife?" Painfully slowly, she raised the weapon and brushed it against Eva's forehead, nose, then down her chin. "I used to make sacrifices with it. I know some others settled for animals, but I'm into doing things properly." At the last word, she pointed the blade against Eva's throat. The Slovak retreated. It proved to be an unfortunate step – the blonde now had her cornered. She finally allowed herself to tremble.

"Honestly, I miss those times," she went on. "So don't _ever_ get near my brother. Or the harvest will be particularly good this year."

Eva's shaking was now out of control. She went on shaking even when her unexpected visit was long gone. Only the next day did she find the courage to leave her room again.

* * *

 _It's not that bad,_ I had to admit, eyes closed while chilling in my new bed. _I'll stay here until my injuries heal and then figure out how to get us out of this mess. Sure, I won't see Eva a whole lot, but I know where she is. Russia won't hurt her. If she doesn't approach him - and I don't see why she should - Belarus will leave her alone, too. Vodka comes easy and cheap here. And I can use some manual work, I was starting to have a belly anyway. It's just that there's not much to do women-wise..._

Suddenly, I remembered there was actually a girl lying by my side. I opened one eye to secretly check her out. She chose that moment to slip out of the blankets and I realized that what I had earlier mistaken for pillows was… a different kind of pillows. Two very impressive specimens. She sat up to have a nice stretch.

 _This smells like the good life._

* * *

 _Translations (everything is in Polish):_

Kde brat? = Where is brother?

Brat odszedł. = Brother left.

Tak = Yes

* * *

A long time ago, there were two brothers known as Czech and Lech. One day, they left hunting together. They went westwards, but, at some point, Lech turned to the north. The little blond boy walking in his footsteps loved that new place - especially the snow. It was beautiful and shiny. But once the dance of the snowflakes came to an end, he realized something was missing.

" _Kde brat?_ " he asked the mortal in front of him.

" _Brat odszedł,_ " the latter spoke.

" _Brat odszedł,_ " the child repeated, breathless.

" _Tak._ He chose another way. Follow me, I'm your ruler now."

Yet the boy wouldn't move. Instead, he stood there, hot tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I want brother!" he cried. The mortal sighed heavily.

"We cannot have everything we want; life is like that. Now stop crying. Be happy. No one likes those who cry."

The little blond held his breath to stifle a sob, but he couldn't stifle what was rising inside him. He forced himself to smile. When smiling wasn't enough anymore, he started to laugh. He went on laughing for a good while. Since that day, every time something pained his heart, he would joke and mock and laugh. It was his little game. _As long as I laugh, nothing can reach me. As long as I laugh, I'm happy._

Even the name he chose - Feliks - meant "happy".

Pity that's not how happiness works.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 20-_

* * *

 _(A/N: There are several versions of the story of Czech and Lech, in some, there is only one brother, in others, there is even a third one, Rus, a supposed founder of Ukraine.)_


	21. Chapter 21

**Moscow, still in 1969**

At first, I was enjoying this new lifestyle. But it didn't take much for me to realize it wouldn't be as easy as it seemed.

Russian climate was harsh and so was the outside work - all that wasn't really helping my wounds. Vodka was so strong it felt like I was being eaten alive. Ukraine seemed out of my reach; every time I made a move, she would just let out a nervous giggle and/or act like nothing happened. And Eva... I was worried about her. Although I'd sent dozens of request for Ivan to let me see her, I still had zero feedback ( _Surprise!_ ). I knew about her, but she didn't know about me. All that must have been a lonely and stressful experience to her. And I didn't give a shit about the nonsense he said about me being a weight to her. I needed to find a way to reach my little girl.

Katya was in charge of agriculture, in other words, food supply. She would go all the way to the manor (she actually had her own room there, but didn't use it often) once or twice a day to bring anything that was currently missing in the kitchen. And, since neither of us liked to cook, she would always bring back leftovers. Soon, I noticed that the scraps from Thursday dinners tasted familiar.

And Katyusha only confirmed my suspicions.

"Go get some potatoes." She handed me a basket one Thursday morning. "We're having _halušky_ tonight."

That was my chance. I got down to the cellar, filled the basket, then retrieved something I have been carrying in my pocket for a while and buried it in the potatoes, hoping it would work.

* * *

 _(A/N:_ Halušky _is a traditional Slovak meal, basically a kind of gnocchi with liquid sheep cheese and bacon.)_

* * *

 _This should be plenty,_ Eva thought as she peeled the umpteenth potato. She was just putting off the necessary; the longer it took for her to cook, the later she would go to bed. And going to bed always scared her, because that meant solitude, uncertainty and despair. _Come on, just one more._ As she reached into the basket for the last time, her nails brushed against something. A letter.

She looked from left to right to confirm nobody was looking, slid the letter in her bra and went on cooking. Later, when everything was on the stove, she checked her environment again and carefully retrieved and opened the envelope. She almost let out a shriek at the familiar handwriting.

 _'Eva darling,_

 _So much has happened recently and I'm afraid I don't have time to explain half of it. Just know this: I gave up on your ring, but not on you. I'm not far away.'_

Her heart started to pound.

' _I've never introduced you to the arts of warfare or diplomacy and not a day will come by without me regretting it. It's a bit late now for a proper lesson, so here are just the basic rules. Number one: make allies. You can never have enough of those, especially now that we so desperately need them. Put your reticence of strangers aside, open your horizons. The other basic rule is: know your enemy. No matter how impressive someone's armor might seem, there's always a chink. No exceptions. Got it?'  
_  
She couldn't help nodding.

' _One last thing. Russia is no good - you learnt that the hard way. But whom you should really be wary of is Belarus. She's silent evil, vicious and unforgiving.'_

 _Tell me something I don't know,_ she mentally moaned.

' _Never let her catch you off guard, never look aside, never close your eyes!'  
_  
 _Shouldn't I be careful of pretty much anyone?_ Eva wondered.

' _Don't get me wrong,'_ the letter went on. ' _Nobody can be fully trusted. But be wary of her in particular.'_

 _Oh, okay._

' _Eva, be brave. Make me proud. I know you can._

 _I think of you every single day._

 _Love,_

 _H'  
_  
"H-Hyňo," the girl sighed. _He's so sweet. And he's here! I need to see him._ Then, she remembered something and bitter realization took over her. _No, I shouldn't. Ivan was right; he's better off without me. I need to let him go._

Since Eva moved in, she was forbidding herself to shed a single tear, but right then, she had troubles holding back. She rushed somewhere she could be alone.

 _It's not that bad, it's not that bad,_ she kept telling herself, but even her inner voice was shaky. _Sure, I have to give up on the one person that matters to me. I'm a prisoner in the white kingdom. Serving a psycho. Two psychos, actually. Let's stay positive, though! After all this, something_ good _is bound to happen. Who knows, maybe the next person I meet will be my soulmate!  
_  
She pushed a random door open and swiftly walked in. A young man in a full French maid outfit turned to look at her.

 _Never mind. I'm dying here. Alone._

* * *

"Sorry, I... You left the door ajar. I... I just..." the girl stuttered. She looked young, timid and a bit confused, her appearance Toris's very definition of plainness.

The Baltic blinked and frowned a bit, then his face cleared up again. _That must be the new maid others were talking about._ He opened his mouth to introduce himself, when, suddenly, he remembered he was wearing female clothing. As years went by, he got used to his predicament, but it wasn't the best outfit when you meet someone for the first time. He looked away, head spinning with a mighty slap of embarrassment.

"I'll… leave now." With that, she disappeared again.

 _On second thoughts, it's not like I would_ ever _have an interest in her or something,_ Toris concluded and got back to his chores.

* * *

When the Slovak got back to the kitchen, the cheese was burning and the water boiling all over the stove. An unknown bespectacled blond was trying to save what still could be saved. She ran to help him.

"Gosh," she gasped as they got everything back to normal. "I shouldn't have gone away. I'm so lucky you were around!"

"Don't mention it. We must help each other." He smiled. "You must be new here. I'm Eduard."

"Eva."

 _I've just given him my true name,_ she observed somewhere deep inside her mind. _Just like that._

Unfortunately, it didn't occur to her to take it as a warning.

* * *

Eva's arrival in the house made quite a buzz, maybe because there weren't that many girls. Several young men were arguing about who would ask her out. Until they found out that until quite recently, Ivan had dated her.

"On the other hand, she's kind of weird, taciturn and everything."

"Yeah. She might have a nice face, but the mousy hair ruins it all."

"And her accent! I can't stand it!"

The Estonian was the only one not intimidated by the idea of dating Russia's ex. On the contrary, it felt more like a quality stamp - Ivan wouldn't waste his time with just anyone, now, would he?

The Slovak caught Ed's eye the second she first entered the house. He would think about her a bit more than he was willing to admit.

He found out all he could - she was of Slavic descent, seventeen, in some kind of complicated relationship. That wasn't a problem, either. A little bit of emotional fragility could actually help his chances. She was a nice specimen - her pale skin would betray any illnesses, but obviously there were none. Her hair looked healthy, too - silky and shiny. The green eye gene she carried was rare and precious. And those breasts and hips… It wouldn't surprise him if, one day, she would give this world a strong, healthy child. Preferably not his, though.

"You must be new here. I'm Eduard."

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 21-_


	22. Chapter 22

Just as expected, when Eduard "ran" into Eva weeks later, she gave him a big, bright smile.

"Ed, thank you so much for giving me such a warm welcome. For showing me around. And all those useful tips! I can't say how much I appreciate it."

He smiled back.

"I'm glad to see you're doing well. Say, we're both working so hard. We deserve a treat. Want to grab a bite tonight?"

Eva hesitated. She would have been so much happier in her room with a good book, but a familiar voice echoing in her head gave her second thoughts.

 _Make allies. You can never have enough of those, especially now that we so desperately need them. Put your reticence of strangers aside, open your horizons.  
_  
She hadn't made many allies so far. It wasn't an easy task… She didn't trust Gilbert anymore. Belarus was out of question. Ukraine was motherly and caring, but almost never around. Definitely not enough for Eva to bond with her. Lithuania was a weirdo and a loser and every time she tried to talk to Latvia, he would squeal and run away. Cute little Moldova seemed to have some kind of personality disorder and the rest of the house was an impenetrable boys club (including Georgia, but barely anyone knew she wasn't male).

Moreover… she might have met Lithuania first, but he didn't seem to qualify as a man. What if Eduard was her soulmate?!

"Why not? See you later then."

* * *

Ed drove the two of them to a nice restaurant somewhere outside Moscow. Actually, it wasn't just nice. _It's fancy,_ Eva observed. So much so she started to feel uneasy. Should they split the bill, she wouldn't be able to afford it. On the other hand, she didn't want him to pay for everything, either. She decided to tell him about her dilemma.

"Then just pay the drinks." He shrugged. _Clever idea,_ the girl thought.

He asked her about her place. She realized she didn't really know what to say.

"Well, errr… It's okay, I guess. Rather average. We do have some nice landscape, but except that, there's not much to offer, I'm afraid."

"Oh, don't shun it," he scolded her gently. "I'm sure it's unique."

 _He's right,_ she realized. _He understands plenty of things. Speaks so many languages. Seen so much of the world. And has so much self-confidence and ambition._ She felt so silly and childish compared to him. Even more so that, despite him being so nice, she just couldn't bring herself to loosen up.

Halfway through the meal, she dropped her fork. He grabbed it in mid-air and handed it back to her with a nonchalant smile. His fingers lingered on hers a second more than needed.

As they were leaving the restaurant, he suggested a stroll. Since he'd paid the whole bill, she felt compelled to accept. They walked slowly towards a nearby lake. As the city lights grew distant, Eva grew nervous, too.

They sat down next to the water and he put his arm around her. She suppressed a shudder. _He's just being friendly. Very,_ very _friendly._

"I don't date a lot, but I decided to make an exception for you. You're really not like other girls."

Then, suddenly, there were his lips on her ear and that became the proverbial last drop.

She sprang up and ran back to the restaurant, to the lights, to what she knew.

And Ed followed without a word at his own pace; she would be waiting for him in the parking lot anyway. Or that was what he thought.

Once he finally caught up with her, he slowed the car to a crawl.

"Come on, let's get back."

But she walked on, sullen and determined. The blond was growing impatient - the pace wasn't good for his car. And he wouldn't have minded leaving the girl to herself if he hadn't been the last person everybody had seen her with. It wouldn't help him if she disappeared.

"You can't walk all the way to Moscow."

Eva would have loved to prove him wrong. Nevertheless, it started to rain, so she swallowed her pride and got into the car.

They drove in silence. She kept looking away.

 _How dares he?! Who does he think he is? And who is he taking me for?! Just because he paid for the dinner…_ She was so angry she felt an urge to hit. Maybe not him, but something, at least. At the same time, she hoped he wouldn't just stop in the middle of nowhere and try something funny again.

"Have I ever," he suddenly started, as if reading her mind. "Throughout the whole evening, have I _ever_ said I wanted to have sex with you?"

The mere word made Eva's stomach churn.

"No," she had to admit.

Back home again, they bade each other a cold goodnight and aimed for their respective rooms. Eva couldn't sleep. She kept fantasizing about stabbing the boy to death.

With a fork.

* * *

 **Poznań, early 11th century**

"…And make sure she's in bed before nine. Alright?"

Feliks rolled his green eyes.

"Relax. We'll be fine."

Hynek frowned, obviously lacking conviction, but he knew that he didn't have much of a choice. He had urgent business to attend to and leaving little Eva all alone was out of the question. After lots of hesitation, he finally brought the girl to the only (albeit relatively) trustworthy person he knew.

The six-year-old wasn't particularly happy about the babysitting plan, either. Luckily for her big brother, it started to snow, so the moment he tried to kiss her goodbye, she was too busy catching snowflakes into her mouth.

And when the snow ceased to fall, she suddenly realized she was in an unknown place with an unknown teenage boy. She gave him a puzzled look.

 _"Kde je brat?"_

" _Brat odszedł._ We can finally have some fun!" he replied merrily.

The girl stared at him with big, shocked eyes.

" _Brat odišiel?!_ "

" _Tak._ "

" _Brat odišiel,_ " she muttered, lowering her gaze.

" _On wróci._ So, what do you want to do first? You seem to like the snow. How about we build a snowman? Wouldn't that be amazing?!"

The little Slovak didn't say a word.

"Maybe snow angels? Let's do snow angels!"

No reply.

"A snowball fight then."

Nothing.

An hour later, they were still standing there.

"Play with dolls? Do your hair? Make music with pots and pans?" That was where Feliks ran out of ideas. And through it all, the girl didn't move the tiniest bit, didn't make a sound, eyes still downcast.

"So what do you want then?!" the boy asked, exasperated.

"I don't mean to be rude," a small voice spoke at last.

"Just say what's on your mind."

"I want... brother," she sobbed.

Feliks thought he should probably hug her, pat the top of her head or something, but instead - not sure why - he started to cry as well. And the more he cried, the more he felt like crying, his whole body quivering as centuries of suppressed tears finally bubbled out.

"I'm sorry," he said once he calmed down again, still taken aback by what he had just gone through.

"It's okay to be sad sometimes. I'm sad, too." They wiped each other's tears with their mittens. Then, she grabbed his sleeve and pulled on it with a surprising force. "Let's be sad together. We can build that snowman in the meantime!"

 _I like that kid,_ Feliks realized.

* * *

 _(A/N: For a brief period in the beginning of the 11th century, Slovakia was a part of Poland.)_

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 22-_

* * *

 _Translations:_

Kde je brat? (Slovak) = Where is brother?

Brat odszedł. (Polish) = Brat odišiel. (Slovak) = Brother left.

Tak (Polish/also Slovak, but rare) = Yes

On wróci. (Polish) = He'll be back.


	23. Chapter 23

**Hi guys,**

 **A double chapter today. Because why not :)**

* * *

 **Moscow, 1972**

Tiny snowflakes were slowly falling from the sky, shining in the midday sunlight. Nothing could be heard in that white kingdom, except for my feet crunching through a fresh layer of snow.

 _Forests are wonderful,_ I thought. Mostly because nobody would bother me there. That was priceless.

I took a deep breath and let the crisp air fill my lungs, then exhaled, refreshed and satisfied. It felt good. For the first time in years, I finally relaxed.

A second later, I tripped over something and went falling, face first, into the snow.

"Fuck this shit!" I yelled. "Stupid roots everywhere. So much for my resourcing myself in Mother Nature's arms!"

I glanced at the tree part and blinked, astounded. A rather strangely shaped root, one had to admit. As a matter of fact, it looked more like something else. A leg. A human leg.

I slowly looked up and froze.

A bluish face was staring back at me, motionless.

I closed my eyes and turned away. _No. I haven't seen that._ _This is none of my concern. I'm not interfering with other's lives. I just want to live mine peacefully, that's all I ask. And the fellow's probably all done by now. So, no. I haven't seen that._

I took a step forward, but hesitation took over me. I couldn't help looking at the frozen face again. Colourless and covered in frost, it did seem lifeless. Except for those eyes. A pair of deep blue eyes staring back at me, broken, but definitely not empty.

You know me; I had always been quite an individualist, to say the least. It was Eva who kept repeating how we should always be there for the fragile and weak. Helping others had already brought me so much trouble, but I knew if she were to find out I just walked away, she wouldn't talk to me for at least a century.

I sighed, grabbed the man's legs and dragged him to the lodge. If I knew back then what would happen between us a few years later, I certainly would have...

But I digress.

"Alright now, frozen dude, let's get you defrosted," I declared once I'd swung the door shut. And that was when I realized I _still_ hadn't fixed the fireplace. That we _still_ didn't have hot water. _Well, shit._

For a while, I seriously considered bringing the guy back to where I'd found him.

Anyway, I didn't.

 _Oh, Eva. The things I do for you,_ I sighed again and stripped down to my underwear. That was the easier part. Next, I discarded the guy's shirt. Removing his trousers was already weird and as I got us both in the bed and spooned him, I had to keep my eyes shut and search desperately for some mental happy place.

 _Come on, man,_ I tried to reason with myself, _just imagine it's a pretty girl._

 _Or perhaps not. Things might get awkward._

For a seemingly endless half an hour, we remained in that disturbing embrace. As soon as his body temperature rose enough not to remind me of a corpse, I shifted to the other side of the bed. He needed some sleep and so did I. Except mine wouldn't come. So I just lied there, staring at the ceiling.

I hadn't noticed he was wide awake until he spoke.

"Aren't you afraid?" he whispered. I was kind of expecting a 'Thank you', but thought whatever. He seemed like he'd be able to leave soon. And I'd be able to forget all about that exasperating afternoon.

"Me?" I laughed. " _You_ should be afraid. I'm already at as bad terms with Ivan as possible. It can't get any worse."

"It can always get worse," he replied, his voice weak and hollow.

I stretched a bit, wondering how to politely kick him out, when my hand landed in something wet.

I raised the duvet. He instantly turned to face me, but I'd already seen what I needed to see. The back of his undershirt was soaked through, wetting the bed sheets, too. And the unmistakable smell almost made me gag. The smell of a poorly dressed wound.

"Take it off." I pulled on the piece of clothing. He recoiled.

"Thanks for everything. I need to get going," he said and tried to get up, but didn't seem to have enough energy. I grabbed his undershirt once again; once again, he tore away. What the hell was his problem?

"C'mon, don't be stupid!" I gave the fabric a determined pull.

"Just let it go!" He raised his voice all of a sudden. But that wasn't an option for me. I didn't go through that weird warming-up process so Mister could drop dead a week later. That would really piss me off. Considering his medical condition, he put up quite a fight. Nevertheless, mere seconds later, I had him plucked against the mattress (only now that I'm telling you this do I realize just _how_ weird it all was). And that moron still wouldn't obey.

"I don't want to!" he growled.

"The sooner you stop struggling, the sooner it'll be over!" I retorted, trying to prevent him from moving while I slowly I tore the fabric apart. The room filled with sounds of fight. Both of us were far too busy to notice the approaching footsteps. And when we did, it was too late.

* * *

 _I have to get out of this place,_ Gilbert mused, twisting the empty basket on his index finger as he made his way through the forest. _Go home, where they recognize and duly appreciate my awesomeness._

He finally reached the snow-covered meadow and the tiny lodge. _So this is where Ukraine lives. And serves her right. It was_ her _job to bring me ingredients for the dinner in the first place!_ he mentally ranted as he briskly pushed the door open. _I have better things to do than-_

For a second, the half-naked couple and the visitor just stared at each other.

"It's not what it looks like!" the Slav then yelled, rolling off the Baltic so quickly he rolled out of the bed and disappeared behind it with a loud 'BANG'.

The Baltic facepalmed.

"I probably won't be back for dinner, Gilbert," he mumbled resignedly to the German.

But the German didn't see or hear any of that. He was already halfway home, his pace so quick the snow under his feet turned to slush.

* * *

"Wonderful! Now he thinks that I'm playing for the other team!" I barked as I emerged from behind the bed, brushing the dust off my naked skin. _Does nobody ever clean this house?! Oh, wait, yeah._ I _am supposed to do that._

" _That_ is your primary concern?!" he asked in exasperation before burying his face in the pillow. "At least you weren't the one receiving," he muttered against it.

One had to admit he had a point (not only about receiving). I was forbidden to see others. Others were forbidden to see me.

"Do you think he'll tell on us?"

Supported by his elbows, he looked up and faced me.

"Imagine you run into two guys with very few clothes on cuddling under a duvet. Would you feel like talking about it?!"

"No. I would feel like having my brain washed and my eyes clawed out so that I would never _ever_ see that again."

"There goes your answer."

That made sense.

I reached under the bed and retrieved a bottle of vodka, then handed it to him. He had a few big gulps (obviously no beginner - but who in the Eastern Bloc really was?!) and hid his face again.

"Will you let me see your wound now?" I tempted. He shrugged and, too tired and humiliated to care anymore, slipped out of the undershirt.

I'd always thought I had lots of scars. Until that moment.

I shook my head, forbidding myself to stare a second more and concentrated on the freshest of injuries. It wasn't as bad as I'd imagined - a small-scale second-degree burn. The fluid was just his body's way to preserve itself. Washed with some soapy water, it would heal in no time.

"I didn't clean it," he said almost apologetically. "I thought it would all soon be over anyway. I decided there was no space left for any new scars."

For a while, he didn't speak, letting me some time to absorb what he'd just said.

"Thank you for telling me," I finally managed as I wiped the sore spot.

"Thank _you_ ," he breathed back.

"No problem," was all I managed as a reply. I honestly didn't want to think about it. Instead, I dried the wound and bandaged it. Out of the blue, he asked me whether I liked playing chess. I said no. He looked disappointed, but didn't linger on it. So we just sat there, showing each other our scars and explaining where they came from while slowly getting drunk. The night came and went. At the dawn, I found both of us some clean clothes and he got ready to leave.

"Let's finish this." I shook our second bottle. There were still about two gulps in it. I took one. The rest was for him.

"Vodka for breakfast." He laughed, then let it slide down his throat.

I had plenty to do that day, but before the door closed, I was asleep.

* * *

Despite Armenia's insisting, Gilbert refused to come out from under his bed. There was that terrible picture filling his brain, far worse than any punishments Ivan could think of. It would probably haunt his dreams, too. He just wished he could have his brain washed and eyes clawed out so that he would never _ever_ see _that_ again. And his career with girls was now over...

Wait. Girls! He knew the Czech. He used to live in his house years ago. That was the only guy who loved women and beer as much as himself. He couldn't possibly… And the Baltic. Any minute he could spare, he would chase after Russia's sister, the hotter one. It just didn't make sense.

 _What if they are planning something and their unproven affair is just a cover?_ he suddenly realized. _It might even be they are plotting against me! They both have reasons._

 _But if they think I would be so easily beaten, they are completely off-track._

* * *

From my dream, I could feel soft, gentle hands taking hold of me, giving me the slightest of shakes.

"Wake up," an equally soft and gentle voice spoke. But my head was in so much pain that, even if there was a kitten walking on a pillow, it would feel like an adult elephant dancing.

"Mnnnrrrnhhhh…"

Another shake. This one was much stronger.

"Please, Katyushenka, let me sleep. I'm so hungover," I slurred.

"GET UP THIS INSTANT!" she shouted so loudly I rolled out of the bed. Again.

Needless to say I was instantly alert. And who wouldn't be? Ukraine didn't get angry a whole lot, but when it happened, trust me, you didn't want to be around.

"I'm so fed up with the way you act!" she yelled as I struggled to sit up. I backed off. " _I_ am in charge here! _I_ tell _you_ what to do!"

I felt an overwhelming desire to crawl away and hide in a corner. She indeed was Russia's and Belarus's sister.

"From now on, I tell you to tidy up - you tidy up. I tell you to fix something - you fix it. I tell you to strip naked - you strip naked! Got it?"

"Yes, Ma'am!" I managed to get on my feet again. Then, the last remainders of haze in my mind dissipated. "Wait, what did you -"

"Are you questioning me?" she asked coldly, then sat down on the bed.

I grinned and slowly removed one piece of clothing after another.

"I thought you weren't interested," I taunted as I took place next to her.

"I didn't know whether I could trust you," she admitted, back to her sweet self. "Until I saw how you acted around Lithuania. You're a nice guy. And it's a good thing, too. I get lonely here. Come on, you didn't _really_ think I gave you this job because of your work skills?!" She laughed. I thought I should feel offended, but then she took her T-shirt off and my mind went hazy again.

* * *

"I didn't go through two world wars so losers like you could mess with me," Gilbert muttered under his breath, marching towards the place he'd sworn he'd never return to.

He kicked the door open.

"Ha! I _knew_ you two weren't having sex!"

"GET LOST, GILBERT!" naked Katya shrieked, throwing a bedside lamp right into his face.

* * *

Poor Gil. The left side of his face was all swollen. I went to get him some ice.

"You," he snarled as he got back to his senses. "Every time I run into you, I end up with an ice pack against my head. You are trouble."

"Isn't that why you like me in the first place?"

He shrugged and, despite himself, smiled.

"So how was it? With Katya, I mean," he asked as I helped him stand up.

"Strangely enough, your unconventional visit spoiled the mood, so I didn't really get far." I waved my hand dismissively.

"It's a tie, then." His words had an undeniable taste of _Schadenfreude_.

But petty wars aside.

"Listen, Gilbert," I said as I leaned in closer. "Thanks for not turning us in."

He seemed surprised, but then, he just shrugged once again.

"With Litva, we've just founded this secret vodka-for-breakfast club. We mostly drink, talk and compare our scars. You should come next time. Half-naked hugs are optional," I quickly added.

That seemed to have convinced him.

* * *

 _(A/N:_ Schadenfreude _could be translated as 'malicious joy'. It means someone's misfortune is making you happy.)_

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 23-_


	24. Chapter 24

_(A/N: I wanted the previous chapter to be fun, so I'll explain here and **if you're of tender heart, please skip directly to "**_ ** _***Save to read from here***"_** _. Toris's burn is a reference to a very radical way of political protest - self-immolation. At that time, it was pretty frequent in the Eastern Bloc. In 1968-1969, three Czechoslovaks committed such act following the Soviet invasion. As for Lithuania, in 1972 alone, 14 people set themselves on fire to demonstrate against the regime._

 _About Toris's attempt to freeze to death - Lithuania is something like a suicide capital. More on google._

* * *

 ** _***Save to read from here***_**

 _Another important thing which happened at that time - Eastern Germany and Czechoslovakia became friends again. Munich Agreement was declared null and void and in 1973, the two countries finally established proper diplomatic relations._ _)_

* * *

As for the vodka-for-breakfast club, I was considering inviting Erzsébet, too. She had always complained about the lack of acceptance towards girls, so I thought this could be a nice way to make up. I didn't want to risk seeing her in person (in case you forgot, the last time, she tried to shoot me), so I asked for the pleasure of her company by letter. Her reply was a portrait of my very self with a bottle of vodka shoved up my rear end. I deduced she wasn't coming.

So the next time, there were three of us. Litva asked Gil whether he liked playing chess. The latter replied that it was far too Russian for his taste. That he preferred sketching. Litva said he hoped he wouldn't force that onto him the way he did with Christianity centuries ago. That was where I interrupted and explained that they were free to beat the hell out of each other, but I would never tolerate passive aggressiveness. We were no chicks. Since then, they were cool with each other.

Anyhow, a part of their argument gave me an idea.

* * *

Many things had changed throughout the last few years, but not Gilbert's passion for challenge. And he was more than pleased to accept this one.

He spent weeks observing the object of his interest, trying to get to know her without her own knowledge, understand her strong and weak points, grasp her true essence. Until, one day, he decided he was ready to hit… the paper with his pencil.

The silhouette was simple to draw. The hair somewhat tricky – he'd always had a hard time with the hair. Yet the real test was her face. Faces are crucial, the first body part everybody sees. It's a mirror to one's heart.

He had to leave it blank for the time being.

* * *

 **Poznań, still in early 11th century**

Erzi knocked, but didn't really have the patience to wait for her friend to open. She pushed the doorknob and marched directly in, a veil of fresh snowflakes following behind.

"I came as soon as I could. You could have told me it was snowing!" She gave the surprised Slav a reproaching look. "Where is it?"

"Hello, Feliks. How are you, Feliks? It's nice to see you, Feliks." He pouted.

Erzsébet paid little attention to his whims.

"So where is it?! I've been waiting for far too long! Show me!"

" _It_ is a _she_ , actually. And she is hiding, she doesn't know you. Try not to scare her more than she already is."

The Hungarian had a good look around the room. It didn't take long for her to notice the only unusual element – a pair of green eyes hiding between the curtains. She struggled not to let hers linger on them. One time she did and she never saw them again. Much less their owner.

"Come on out, baby girl. Come meet auntie Erzsébet."

Feliks had to ask several times, but in the end, the Slovak did come out, hiding behind his leg. Erzi grinned. _A girl. Nothing more than a little girl._

"Hello there," she said sweetly and moved closer, which resulted in the child gripping tightly onto the boy. "Don't be shy!"

"It won't work. She doesn't understand your language," he explained.

Hungary snorted and shook her head.

"Watch and learn."

She slid her travel bag off her shoulder and retrieved something round wrapped in a dishcloth. She'd got herself an unknown, particularly tasty local snack on her way and there was still plenty left. She undid the wrapping, crouched and showed the girl the contents.

" _Koláč!_ " Eva squealed, ran towards the older girl and tried to grab the whole thing. Erzi allowed her only a piece.

" _Kalács,_ " the brunette repeated, trying to remember the word. "Anyway, problem solved." She turned to face Feliks again, while, not ungently, slapping the little hand that tried to steal some more cake. "Now, do we already have a buyer?"

Feliks's expression turned from superior to sheepish.

"Actually... Why don't you sit down?"

* * *

"You've got to be kidding me," Erzi growled with the this-gives-me-a-headache gesture.

"I mean – just think about it! More territory equals more money, more material, more people. Bigger army. Bigger impact. Imagine how powerful we'll become!"

"You want to cut her in two?" she asked, unbelieving.

"More like she'll live in a separate house and we will take turns babysitting her, sharing the duties as well as the perks. You see?"

His friend didn't seem half as excited.

"Or we can, like, all live in the same house." The Pole shrugged.

"I don't know," she sighed after a moment of silence. "I just don't know. I'll think about it and tell you tomorrow."

The old friends spent the night drinking and chatting. Eva kept running around the room, all the while repeating random words Hungary had just uttered and never failing to attempt to lay a hand on the older girl's bag and its magical contents. Somewhere after midnight, Erzi had had enough. She gave the girl some more cake, which then made her lose the little discipline she still had, screaming 'floor is lava' (in Hungarian) and jumping from one piece of furniture to another. That until she ran out of fuel, squeezed between the two and fell asleep. The teenagers followed shortly after.

All that didn't leave Erzsébet with much time for thinking, but she didn't really need it – she already knew.

So, when, in the late afternoon, the boy woke up and decided to cook them a proper meal, she insisted on eating something he could only get on the market. Once he'd finally left, she ran to get her horse ready.

 _We had a deal, Feliks. Don't worry, you'll be happy enough when you receive your half of the gold._

Despite her insisting, the animal just wouldn't move, still not properly rested from the previous journey. Erzi thought of bribing him with some sweet treats.

She re-entered the house and stopped in her tracks. The little girl that had seemed to be sound asleep a minute earlier was now sitting in the middle of the room, clutching onto the empty dishcloth, her hands and mouth generously covered all over in crumbs.

"You little scoundrel!" Erzi yelped. "Is _this_ how your brother's raising you?!" _But it's not like you could understand me,_ she reflected right after.

The blonde shrugged.

"Not really. Big brother has always plenty of things to say, mostly silly things. Like I shouldn't eat sweets in between meals. Yet here I am, doing just that. And look how happy I am," she retorted in a broken, but not less comprehensible Hungarian before letting out a loud belch.

For a second or two, Erzsébet stared at her, then burst out laughing.

 _I like that kid,_ she suddenly realized.

So much so she held the girl's hair when she puked the whole pound of cake up a moment later.

* * *

Translations:

Koláč (Slovak) = Kalács (Hungarian) = Brioche-style cake

 _(A considerable part of Hungarian vocabulary comes from Slavic languages - I'll talk about that a bit later. And, for the sake of precision, the Slovak word_ koláč _had extended its meaning in the meantime. Nowadays it refers to any kind of cake, not just sweet bread.)_

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 24-_


	25. Chapter 25

**Prague, early 11th century**

Feliks and Erzsébet might have known how to lead an army, but they had absolutely no idea how to raise a child. Baby Eva quickly noticed they were nowhere near her authoritative brother and her life became one big party. She only ate what she liked (sweets), slept when she wanted, played with everything she saw and refused to take a bath or have her nails cut. Soon, she turned into a tiny smelly monster neither of them dared approach. And, one day, the day she used all of Poland's makeup to give Hungary's horse a makeover, they decided they had had enough. She would go back to her brother's where she belonged. Let _him_ do all the dirty work.

(And they can always try living together again once she had turned into an acceptable human being. With acceptable hygiene rituals.)

The Pole escorted her all the way; his friend decided to stay behind to "enjoy the local landscape". She wasn't quite ready yet for another meeting with the Czech.

"Everything alright?" she asked when Feliks joined her again.

"Sure." He stretched out on the grass, hands behind his head. "I've walked her all the way to the inn."

"Inn?!" the Hungarian scoffed. "Don't they live in a castle?"

Feliks shrugged and blew a raspberry.

"He's always been a bit of a yokel, it doesn't really surprise me."

But, for some reason, the brunette just couldn't drop it.

"This is weird. Let's go and check."

* * *

"I can't believe it!" Erzsébet moaned. She'd mustered her courage and entered the territory that wasn't hers nor Feliks's and found out what was going on. It was worse than she had thought.

"I know! Their clothes are, like, totally last century!"

"No!" she hissed. "He's making her live like a human!"

The Slav blinked.

"And...? That's the life they both lead and she seems happy. We've all gone through this, haven't we? You know it never lasts. Something always happens."

"Feliks." Erzi was starting to have a headache again. "The problem is that, while we wait for this something to happen, she lives with him. _Here_. At _his_ place. She's growing as a girl, but not as a country! He's smothering her, holding her back! One day, he'll swallow her up! And if he doesn't, so many others might!"

She sensed Poland didn't like hearing all those things, but it couldn't be helped.

"So what are you going to do about it? Fight him?" he retorted.

Even though the idea sent a chill down her spine, admitting fear was totally against Erzi's philosophy.

"I… I don't think so. I wouldn't want to fight your brother," she improvised.

"I don't really see him as a brother anymore," Feliks confessed. "More like a cousin. But that's still family."

Sheltered by the trees, they lied there for a while, thinking.

"I'll do it, Feliks." The Hungarian suddenly sat up. "I'll do it. I'll watch over her."

The blond sat up as well, blinked, then threw his head back laughing.

"Sure. Like _you_ would _ever_ accept any kind of responsibility."

"I mean it. I'll watch over her. And her place," she added.

Pol snorted, although he already knew it was no joke.

"Let's face the facts - I'm no longer the fighter I used to be. Same goes for bounty hunting. And no more raiding, either. Recently I've learnt how unpleasant it is when someone takes _my_ stuff. I don't want to steal anymore."

"Erzi, but… how? I mean… how will you live?" he gasped after a moment of awed silence.

"Like you, guys. I'll grow crops and everything, even accept Christianity if necessary. It will make me happy," she had to admit. "And sometimes, you just want to be happy, no matter what others say."

* * *

 **Moscow, 1975**

A kilometer or so from the lodge, there was a village. And, after the village, a lone-standing house of ill repute. With Gil, we quickly agreed that reputation was an overrated concept anyway.

Toris wasn't the kind of person to join us - too righteous and shit. Nevertheless, when we found out that it was soon to be his birthday, we decided he deserved a treat. So we paid him the prettiest, most requested and most skilled of the girls.

Yet somehow, he didn't share our excitement.

"What for?!" He blinked.

"You know. So you can… have a good time," Gilbert said, waggling his white eyebrows.

"Get lucky," I clarified.

"Go all the way," the German added.

"Make some friction," I couldn't help putting in.

"Dance in the sheets."

"Hanky panky."

"Hippidi dippidi."

"I get it!" Litva cut us off, a tad sullen. "I went to school, you know! It's just that I don't see the point. That is something I only want to do with Natashenka."

"Then close your eyes and imagine it's her." Gilbert shrugged.

"Wouldn't the girl mind?"

The two of us laughed.

"Litva, they don't care. They are paid to do anything," I explained. The gleam in his eyes suddenly switched from a confused one to one of interest.

" _Anything?"_

I exchanged looks with Gil.

"Well, they might charge extra, but basically, yes."

"Ah. I didn't know _that_. I'll give it a go, then."

* * *

"Wish me luck, guys!" Litva smiled sheepishly as the promiscuous beauty grabbed his hand and guided him away. "Oh, I almost forgot the essential." He ran back to me and retrieved his suitcase I had volunteered to hold for him.

"What do you think he's got in there?" Gilbert asked once the door behind Toris had closed.

"The less we know, the happier we'll be."

Ladies seemed disappointed that the two of us weren't seduced by any of them. We were just too eager to see Litva's face as he emerged from the room.

At last, the door opened. He held it for the girl who walked out of there, pouting. I instantly felt bad. I knew that a prostitute pouting can only mean one thing (not that it ever happened to _me_ , of course!).

But Litva followed more cheerful than ever. He patted her shoulder.

"Don't worry! Compared to me, you're just a beginner. It'll be better next time!"

"Thanks," she muttered. For a second or two she hesitated, then, she smiled, pecked his cheek and left. Litva joined us again.

"Guys! Thank you so much! I can't wait to do this again!"

Me and Gil just stood there, trying to figure out what the hell.

* * *

And Litva really got back there. Actually, before too long, he was seeing a girl every Friday.

"How can you possibly pay for that?!" Gilbert yelled. My question exactly. With the wage we were getting, we could barely afford two trips a month.

"Girls told me they were having such a nice time that they wouldn't charge me." He shrugged.

My jaw almost dropped and one look at Gil confirmed he was feeling the same way. Since we were both too proud to ask him _what_ exactly he did with the ladies, we went to talk to them instead.

The moment I pronounced his name, all the girls gathered round and, in a disturbingly cordial way, they asked us whether he was coming soon.

"I suppose, yes. Just, if you don't mind us asking, what is it you like about him so much?"

Ladies looked at one another for a while, then started to giggle. Once again, we stood there, clueless.

"It's just that he's such a _player_!" one of them finally managed. A fresh batch of giggles followed.

"He knows all the right _moves_!" another girl said. They were laughing and blushing so hard we decided to drop it, doomed to eternal ignorance.

Years later, I found out the truth. And, to this day, I'm still amazed.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 25-_


	26. Chapter 26

**Moscow, 1978**

In the meantime, Eva had grown accustomed to her new life. More or less. She didn't have friends, but she had books. They never judged her, tried to seduce her or threatened to kill her.

Concerning Natalia, things weren't as fatal as she'd feared. As long as she obeyed, didn't talk and went with the Belorussian's occasional whims, everything was okay.

And Ivan. The other day, she was serving wine on a party when, suddenly, she slipped and poured the drink all over someone's calf and foot. The person looked important and the suit expensive, so she was scared to death about the consequences. She had heard legends about punishments in the house, blood-curdling legends. But after the party, Ivan just told her not to do it again and went straight for his bedroom. Hynek was right - he favored her.

 _Perhaps, if I don't do anything stupid again and work hard, one day, he'll let me see brother. Although, yes… I forgot. He's better off without me. I must let him go._

 _I just hope he isn't doing too bad._

* * *

I don't mean to brag, but, apart from all the girls in the infamous house behind the forest, I had my way with Katya, too.

I'll never understand those who considered her unappealing, a coward or a crybaby. The Ekaterina I remember was an amazing woman; one that knew exactly what she wanted from men and how to claim it. One that spent hours and days lying next to me, naked and gorgeous. We would smoke and drink and talk about how we would change the world. Or the Eastern Bloc, at least.

Another thing I remember is her anxiety. She was fed up with her brother and living with him, yet at the same time, they had so much in common that he had become an undeniable part of her. Up to this day, they haven't entirely worked it out.

I asked about Belarus. It turned out she was causing her almost the same amount of distress.

"She loves Ivan too much."

"What about Toris?"

"Ah, that's another story," she sighed. "Not so long ago, we were both living in his house. One night, Natalia went to his room and made him a man, hoping it would buy her freedom. Unexpectedly, he fell in love with her and clutched onto her even tighter."

I couldn't really blame Litva. It must have been the best night of his life.

"On top of that, now that they both live with brother, he prefers Toris. That's why she's a tad out of her mind."

"I thought she just needed to get laid," I confessed.

"No. She needs a relationship. A two-sided one."

* * *

 _(A/N: For some reason, Ukrainians and Czechs seem to get on really well. According to the statistics from 2014, there are about 120 000 Ukrainians living in Czech Republic. Which is a pretty amazing number, considering that the country's total population is only about 10,5 million.)_

* * *

Thus, Eva had given up on seeing Hynek.

Little did she know she was just about to meet him again. Not in the best circumstances.

Braginsky residence was almost empty that day, so cleaning up after lunch didn't take long. Her gaze fell on Ukraine's empty basket. _I'll bring her the leftovers._ She'd heard that the lodge was somewhere on the far side of the forest and the idea of such a stroll appealed to her.

As she approached the shelter, an awful, almost animalistic bellow sent her into a cold sweat. She ran inside.

And there he was, half-lying, half-sitting on the floor. Eyes wet with tears, teeth clenched, shaky hands clutching onto the injured leg. Needless to say there was no time for chit-chat.

"What happened to you?" Eva squealed.

"It burns like hell!" he shouted in an even higher-pitched voice than hers.

"What happened?" she tried again.

"Water! Water!"

"You dropped some boiling water?" _That does_ not _look like a water burn._

"Fuck it, Eva, help me already!" he screamed in pain and hatred. She forced herself to stay cool.

"I can't help if I don't know what happened," the girl explained. She had a closer look and recognized an acid burn. Most likely he had flushed it with cold water, which was definitely a good move, but sometimes, it brought even more suffering.

A while later, thanks to some soapy water and painkillers, he finally calmed down. His head on her lap, she wiped his sweaty forehead. He explained that he had had an accident with some water he had heated for tea.

"You don't even like tea," Eva objected. "Why don't you tell me the truth?"

"You should go back now," he mumbled, then fell asleep. Or at least did an amazing job pretending.

A part of Eva would have loved to stay, hold him tight and wait until he woke up again so they can talk and catch up with each other... but his last words managed to smother all that enthusiasm.

She scribbled him a note about how to treat the wound, then took her leave.

 _You haven't changed a bit,_ she thought that night as she drifted to sleep. _Ungrateful, egoist, liar. Maybe it's_ me _who's better off without_ you _._

* * *

 **Esztergom, early 11th century - early 20th century**

For a few centuries to come, through good and bad times, Erzsébet watched over Eva's place and those who lived there.

It wasn't before long that the girl noticed her new neighbor. She didn't seem to mind though, just as long as her kids could be whom they wanted to be – Slovaks.

Then, there was that political marriage. Erzsébet wasn't a free woman anymore; she now had a husband and plenty of new duties. Keeping an eye on her protégée became a challenge.

But Feliks was right – they were no humans and they weren't destined to live as such. Something always happened. Indeed, one day, Eva turned up at their doorstep, a bag in her hand. The soul had joined the body and the Empire was finally complete.

Erzi was pleased to see that Eva's hair had turned darker, most likely because of all those Slovak women giving children to Hungarian men. They now looked quite alike, she observed. Surely that child's destiny had always been linked with hers.

The Hungarian would rather die than admit it, but many were the times when she cried herself to sleep, scared of the one who lied next to her, to whom she was supposed to be closer than anybody else. And even though she smiled at him, danced with him, even let him touch her, she never laid down her guard. She knew men far too well to do that. Kind and caring one second, but show a tender spot and they're at your throat, using you, destroying you, eating you alive.

Some countries, in fear of being absorbed by stronger, bigger ones, seek to preserve themselves by absorbing those who are even smaller and weaker. And that was exactly what happened in the center of Europe at that time. Consciously or not, Erzsébet attempted herself what she'd been trying to prevent for centuries – swallowing the younger girl up.

"This is how you will address me from now on," Austria spoke, handing Slovakia a shabby German textbook. Hungary interpreted.

"But… I already have a language," confused Eva replied.

"Then keep it. And learn my language as well." He turned to his wife so she would translate once again.

"I'm afraid from now on you can only speak German and Hungarian in this house," the woman "translated" to the girl.

That time, like for many times to come, Eva didn't like what she'd heard and could tell something was wrong. Be that as it may have been, up until half of the 20th century, she couldn't bring herself to truly hate Hungary. So, at that moment, she simply nodded. It wasn't that she agreed. It was just easier that way.

Years went by and she kept on nodding to everything, certain that one day, her time would come. Time to grab her bag again and walk towards another, better doorstep.

And when it came, she didn't look back.

* * *

 _(So, at the break of the millennia, Slavs from (including, but not limited to) central Europe got under the influence of Hungarians. Those decided to stay there following some military failures which had left them weak. They went through a considerable change of lifestyle, learning about agriculture and crafts from the locals. Since those things were unknown to them, logically, they didn't know how to call them. So they borrowed plenty of Slavic expressions. Another reason for these borrowing is the fact that Hungarians were basically a bunch of tribes who didn't have necessarily a lot in common. So they needed a language based on something they all know to be able to communicate among themselves._

 _This coexistence between Slavs (notably Slovaks) and Hungarians worked really well. The region flourished and the multi-cultural aspect of the country was mostly seen as its strength. Well, until the Age of Enlightenment, where Hungarian nobles realized that all those other nations would soon ask for power and independence and that they themselves would be sorely outnumbered. So they did all they could to make the Hungarian culture and language the only acceptable option. Attitude which basically destroyed them in 1918._

 _Btw. Austrians had also done some not-so-good things, but that's a story on its own._

 _Fun fact: Having come from East, original Hungarians had Asian traits. They lost them while making babies with Slavs.)_

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 26-_


	27. Chapter 27

**A couple of new chapters today to catch up a little.**

* * *

 **Moscow, 1981**

"Stupid barbed wire," Eva growled as she noticed the tear in her work clothes. She would sometimes have small accidents like that when mowing the lawn, but this time, the damage was too big. A patch was necessary.

She went through the clothes lying around in the laundry room until she found a shabby grayish shirt. _This crap has seen better days. I bet no one will miss it._

She tried to cut out a round patch and laughed as she realized it ended up heart-shaped. She was just about to adjust it a little when the door flung open and Eduard walked in. They exchanged cold looks. He was the first to break the silence.

"Any idea where is Ivan's favorite shir- Oh," he breathed as his gaze fell on her hands. "Well, see you in the next life." And just like that, he turned around and left.

Eva's heart sank, her stomach started to hurt and her limbs went cold and stiff. Despite all that, before too long, she stood up and headed for her superior's room. Whatever terrible thing he'd do to her, she wanted it to be over as soon as possible.

As he answered the door, he was in the middle of getting dressed. The sight that she would have utterly enjoyed years ago now almost made her weep in despair. _I forgot how strong he is. I don't stand a single chance._

"G-good evening, Mr. Russia. Forgive me if I disturb. I… I'm afraid I've ruined your shirt." She raised the piece of clothing she'd brought along. "I… I didn't mean to," she whispered, throat too constricted for proper speaking.

He glanced at the shirt, then back at her.

"I'm about to see someone important. I don't have time to deal with this now. Just be careful next time," he mumbled, grabbed the damaged garment and shut the door.

The girl kept standing there, unable to believe her luck.

 _Whoever he's meeting,_ _they deserve a Nobel Peace Prize,_ she concluded.

* * *

 _Now is the good moment. I'll just grab her purse like he asked me to and…_

"YOU!"

Gilbert turned around, trying not to look too sheepish.

" _Heeey Slowakei, wie geht's?_ " He flashed her his best smile. The girl didn't smile back. Instead, she tore the purse out of his hands, glaring at him from under her furrowed eyebrows.

"If you think I'm lending you more money, then dream on," she spat.

The German decided that was no moment for bickering. Instead, he grabbed the brunette's arm and pulled her towards the entrance.

"Let's walk."

"Don't you... touch me!" she gasped in effort to fight him off. It was true that recently, he had been looking at her more than usual. "It's no! ... _Nie_! ...Нет! ... _Nein_! Got it?!"

"You don't understand!" Gil shouted back, impatient. "I need you to…" _I can't explain here and now, somebody might hear us,_ he thought. "...give me Slovak lessons! In the forest!" _What the hell did I just say?!_

The young lady snorted and said something very unladylike, so he just went on pulling.

"Alright, this is enough! I've already told you years ago and I'll say it again! I wouldn't date you even if you were the LAST MAN ON EARTH!" Eva thundered. Then, suddenly, she realized they were standing in the middle of the front lawn and he wasn't touching her anymore.

"Go quick," he said in low voice, subtly gesturing towards the forest. "He needs help."

The teenager stared at him, lips parted.

"I beg your pardon, Gilbert," she almost cried in realization. The man could feel his heartbeat quicken by the look she gave him - one of pure affection. The pace doubled as she flung herself into his arms a second later.

When he finally recovered from that delicious shock, she was already entering the forest.

"If I let you humiliate me further, will I get more than a hug?" he shouted with a grin.

"Hell no!" the girl laughed, then disappeared among the trees.

* * *

As for Gilbert, he retreated back into the house. He couldn't do much for his friend's body, but he might just bring a little pleasure to his soul.

 _That look on her face.  
_  
The vision was so fresh and clear in his head that, afraid he might lose it, he sat down directly at the kitchen table and, in a few graceful movements, finished his sketch. He was happily contemplating the fruit of his work when a heavy hand took place on his shoulder. Reluctant, he turned around, ready to meet the familiar pair of cold violet eyes. But those seemed to only see the drawing.

"Can you make a copy in color?"

Gilbert blinked.

"S-sure. Unfortunately, there seems to be a general shortage of colored crayons around the place," he responded nervously.

"There might be a way."

Indeed, as the German got back to his room that evening, there was a bunch of second-hand crayons waiting on his desk. The green one was tiny and he needed it the most, but it would suffice.

* * *

" _Ahoj,_ " Eva said softly as she entered the lodge. The young man lying on the bed turned to look at her. It seemed like it was only yesterday that she'd left him there in that very position.

" _Ahoj,_ " he whispered, then smiled feebly. "He messed up, didn't he?"

"Purses are like our body parts." She chuckled. "I thought you knew everything about women." She sat down next to him, examining the lower part of his torso, which was carefully wrapped in a bandage. _Nice work. I totally forgot Gilbert's family used to run a hospital._

"He fixed it. But the painkillers don't work."

Eva nodded and reached into her purse to retrieve a tiny tin box. She used its contents to make him a brew.

"I hate tea." The Czech crinkled his nose. Eva felt like saying something very unladylike again, but successfully fought the urge.

"You'll like this one."

He frowned, but drank up. A while later, he was grinning from ear to ear and asking for something to eat. Then, he just lied there with that dopey smile, contemplating the ladybug on the ceiling, wondering aloud how come it didn't fall down. Happy with the result, the Slovak used that moment to tidy up her first aid kit.

"Whoooah," he gasped as he noticed what she was doing, instantly trying to grab some of the really pointy items. Eva slapped his hand and handed him a safely sealed bottle of pills.

"Here, play with this instead."

"What is it?" he inquired, studying and shaking the new toy.

"That's my ultimate analgesic," she beamed with a certain pride.

"So how come you didn't give me _that_ instead?"

Eva could tell the effects of the tea were slowly wearing off.

"It's not that easy. It's highly addictive and has plenty of side effects. Like constipation. Nausea. Cramps. Headache. Skin rash. Et cetera. You might have trouble breathing. Also, it diminishes the sex drive and performance."

Just as she anticipated, in a flash, the bottle landed in her purse. He looked at his hand as if he had just touched a leper.

"Don't you _ever_ give me _that_!"

* * *

Eva put the tin box in the drawer of his nightstand in case the pain got back. The brunette hadn't even bothered to ask him what happened, assuming he would (for whatever reason) just lie again. So, once he drifted to a deep and sound sleep, she decided to change the bandages. _Maybe I will know more if I see it._

Having removed the last layer, she contemplated the precise stitching just above his hip. Several adjectives ran through her mind as she mentally recreated the wound - recent, painful, significant... But a certain one overshadowed all of them.

Heart-shaped.

This time, she didn't laugh.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 27-_

* * *

Translation:

Wie geht's? (German) = How's it going?


	28. Chapter 28

_Know your enemy,_ Hynek's voice echoed through her mind. _No matter how impressive someone's armor might seem, there's always a chink. No exceptions._

That meant fighting was not only about brute force, money and weapons - and it was a good thing, too, for she didn't have any of that. It was about attitude, strategy and determination. And that was something she, on the contrary, had within reach.

Eva had been watching her enemy for some time now. Studying his schedules and habits, following him in secret as often as she could. Notwithstanding a few unusual discoveries, she hadn't really come to any actual conclusion. Except that he was weird and mentally unstable, but that was common knowledge.

That early evening, she entered his bedroom, forbidding herself to remain absent-minded like she would be most of the time. The Slovak was convinced there was something to find. She had no idea what, but she wouldn't stop before she figured it out.

She closed the curtains and scattered a few sunflower petals all over the sheets. As she reached to plump up the pillows, she noticed herself in a beautiful antique mirror. And half-dozen of smaller Evas, too. She turned around. Of course, there was another mirror right behind her. Contrary to the first one, it was just a piece of silvered glass glued to the wall. It seemed somewhat out of its place and… _de trop_.

Ivan liked to think big, but he wasn't a collector. He didn't tolerate redundancy.

Eva walked towards the mirror and ran her fingers all over it, feeling for something unusual. There seemed to be a tiny gap between the sober decoration and the wall. She had a closer look and discovered it was not glued, just held in place by a few suction cups. She pulled. The cups gave way.

 _Interesting._

 _He's a clever man, I have to give him that_. _People might look behind a painting or a bookshelf, but who would sneak a peek behind a mirror?! Everyone would be far too concerned by their own reflection to do that._

She was facing a wardrobe like all the others, except this one was locked. Not for long, though.

Eva didn't have a key to her own room - she wasn't allowed to lock it at any time. Until, one day, desperate for a little privacy, she learnt a nice little trick with her hair clip. A few precise movements, one satisfying click and the wardrobe opened. The girl blinked.

She knew that men were strange creatures, that they often liked the strangest things. Ivan was stranger than most of them. So, when looking out for his weak spot, she tried to be ready for just about anything. Still, this… this was beyond all her expectations.

And she knew what to do and how. But it was too much. Far too much.

 _No. I can't. Just. Can't._

* * *

 **Budapest, 1918**

If asked, Erzsébet Héderváry wouldn't say that her marriage was unhappy. On the contrary, despite all she'd been through, she believed it worked rather well.

Until she realized she was in love with him.

That was when she decided to leave.

* * *

 **Moscow, 1982**

Eduard Von Bock had (aside from many other ones) this bad smoking habit.

That unfortunate day, he was trying to avoid getting punished for something really bad, so he hid in Ivan's office. The Russian would probably look for him everywhere, but definitely not there.

One had to admit that his plan was pure genius. Still, he couldn't help feeling nervous and, thus, smoking one cigarette after another. And when, all of a sudden, he heard approaching footsteps, the stress completely eclipsed his intellectual powers. Which was a shame, because, had his brain still worked, it would have surely told his owner that:

1) The footsteps were far too light to belong to his superior

2) It was never a good idea to hide a lit cigarette in a dustbin

3) It was never a good idea to jump out of a window, even if it's only second floor.

Anyway, Eduard landed without a serious injury, but his actions had consequences he couldn't even fathom.

Eva walked into the office; it was her turn to clean it. She sniffed, eyeing questioningly the open window. As she was about to lean out of it to have a look, she heard a hiccup. A few other ones followed, guiding her to the source. She looked under the table.

Raivis Galante had, despite his young age, this bad drinking habit (but who in the Eastern Bloc didn't?!). He was also hiding from Ivan (under his desk. He would never look for him there, now, would he?), but by that time, he had had so much vodka he could no longer remember any of that. Which was why, when Eva laid her eyes on him, he looked like he was having the time of his life.

"Hey, gorgeous." He winked, his usual shyness dissolved in the alcohol.

"Latvia!" the girl screamed. "Don't drink that abomination!" She tried to grab the bottle, but the blond just wouldn't give it up. And when he finally decided to let it go, Eva pulled too hard. The bottle went flying through the room, spilling its contents everywhere before ending up in the worst place possible – the already smoking dustbin.

A flame sprang out of it, instantly spreading across the desk, shelves and curtains.

"The room's on fire!" Pointing out the obvious was all Eva managed to do in her shock.

"Every room's on fire once you enter," he slurred in a supposedly sexy voice while moving closer to her, totally oblivious to what was happening around. Eva acted as his exact opposite. She started to run around in panic and scream 'It's a fire! FIRE! FIRE!' until she stumbled and went falling down with a sprained ankle.

The situation made Rai instantly sober up and realize he should do something. He helped the Slovak to security. Unfortunately (or fortunately? It's awfully hard to say…), it was at that very moment that he remembered he was basically a panicky person. And, without further ado, he fainted.

Eva crouched next to him and checked his pulse, which was satisfying. What bothered her more was the suffocating heat, the omnipresent smoke and the whole house running around with water buckets and fire extinguishers.

A minute later, Ivan appeared.

"Which one of you two did this?" he asked coolly, his gaze moving from Eva to the unconscious boy.

" _I_ did," she responded, eyes on the ground.

"Do you realize how many sensitive documents _and_ personal belongings had I just lost?! Help others set my office in one of the vacant rooms. You're not leaving this house before it's done."

That was pretty much what the girl had expected. And she knew that disobeying him now would make things even worse.

Because of the sprain, she was useless anyway, so she just sat down and gave her leg some care. Boys did all the work - it didn't even take them too long. Still, when she finally limped all the way to the lodge, it was already too late.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 28-_


	29. Chapter 29

When she entered, Gilbert was sitting on the bed next to his friend, just finishing the work. She almost screamed as she saw Hynek's hand wrapped all over in white.

"Broken. At two different places. And the tea doesn't work."

"I know," she breathed and walked over to them. "It's too weak for this kind of thing. You can leave us now."

"Sure?" The German frowned at her obviously still sore leg, but since she insisted, he obliged.

There was a trace of saliva running down the half-conscious fellow's chin. Eva wiped it. It woke him up.

"I wish I could give you a shot. It would take effect more quickly." With one hand, she parted his mouth while popping a bottle of pills open with another. To her surprise, he jerked his head.

"Not _that_ ," he protested, glaring at her other hand. Eva sighed.

"This is no time for… whatever is going through your head," she half-growled while forcing his lips apart again. He clenched his teeth.

"Stop it! I can't help you if you're acting like this!" she shouted, but instantly felt bad about raising her voice at a suffering person. Especially considering how much she'd misjudged him before.

"Please," he moaned. "Anything. Just not that."

"I don't have anything else."

" _Please._ I know you'll figure something out."

Eva sighed again, then offered him her sweetest smile.

"Alright then. Have you ever heard of the healing power of virgin kisses?"

"No," the Czech admitted. His face lit up somewhat as he smiled weakly back. "But I fully support the concept."

"Close your eyes then."

He obeyed.

 _Thank God men are so dumb,_ Eva thought as their lips touched. Before he could realize, she spat the pills into his mouth, then sealed it with her palm and pinched his nose. His eyes shot wide open to give her a black look but, aware there was no other way out, he swallowed the medication.

"Thank me. It can be applied rectally, too."

He said nothing, just turned away and slowly drifted to sleep.

 _Yes, I can,_ Eva thought to herself, putting away the empty bottle of morphine. _I can. I_ must _._

* * *

I woke up, happy to find out all my drives were still there. And, since I was of little use with only one functional hand, I decided I might as well have some fun.

Once in front of the brothel, I noticed the windows weren't lit up red as they usually would be, but I knocked anyway. A girl wearing thick lenses and a shapeless sweater opened.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

At first, I thought she was a leaving client, so her question got me somewhat taken aback.

"Well, I was… err… you see, looking for _a girl_." I winked.

"Which one?" she inquired, completely disinterested.

"Err… I dunno… Maybe Sweetheart?" That was the nickname of the lady we once paid for Litva.

She rolled her eyes, removed her glasses and gave me a tired, judging look. I couldn't believe it - it was her. I just didn't recognize her without all the makeup and lingerie.

"Yet another old customer!" she yelled to someone inside the house. "When will we have that inscription made?" Afterwards, she turned back to me. "Sorry, pal, we're a chess club now."

I started to laugh, but she stepped aside and indeed, all I could see were tables with checkerboards and competing girls. One of them waved at me.

"Hey, you're Toris's friend, right?" Everyone interrupted their activities to look at me.

"Send him our love!" they shouted in unison.

* * *

So I said farewell to the girls. As I turned around to leave, I bumped into an unfamiliar country. Something about him instantly reminded me of Litva.

"'Scuse me."

"Ah, that's okay." He adjusted his glasses. He looked just as devastated as I felt. "That was the only woman who ever understood me," he moaned.

"I know that feel, bro. Wanna come over to my place and get drunk?"

Halfway down the second bottle, he started to marvel at my scars and the broken hand.

"I was convinced life at my place was hard, but yours seems even worse."

I explained where the injuries came from, that it was personal rather than political. _Very_ personal. It was strange, because nobody, not even Gilbert knew the truth. I just felt like talking about it at that very moment. As I was finishing, I caught a glimpse of Katya through one of the windows. I ran outside and grabbed the basket she'd deposited near the entrance like she would every day. That night, we were having _Würzfleisch_ , but - for a good reason - I was more excited about the vegetable peels rather than the food. I emptied the basket onto the ground and there it was – an envelope. I grabbed it and ran back inside.

* * *

Even though Eduard didn't say anything to his new acquaintance, he saw things somewhat differently.

First of all, that was _not_ how punishments worked in USSR. Yes, there were cruel ones, but they were reserved to those who lied, disrespected or betrayed Ivan in some way. What he said to Eva the day she ruined the shirt was a joke; he was guessing that at worst, she wouldn't get to eat for a day. And someone would surely sneak something into her room anyway.

The other thing was – Ivan hadn't forbidden them to see one another. It was impossible; most of them shared rooms. He only told them to avoid the Czech.

Ivan must have really, _really_ hated the guy. The Baltic believed he knew why.

* * *

In the meantime, the blond got ready to leave.

"That was an interesting story you told me. Just one question."

"Mmm?" I clumsily tore the envelope apart and retrieved its contents – a single sheet of paper.

"Is she really worth it?"

I unfolded the sheet and my heart stopped for a while.

"Yes," I whispered. "Yes, she _is_."

* * *

Ivan was surprised by the late-night knock on his bedroom door. He could see no reason why anyone would visit him at such an unusual hour, maybe with a few exceptions. But it wasn't the timid sound that usually betrayed one of the shaking Baltics, neither the frenetic banging of his little sister's fists. Something between the two - calm, but determined. He quickly slid his reading under the pillow.

"Come in."

Young Slovakia entered. She wasn't shrunk with fear with arms wrapped around herself for protection, the posture she usually held in his presence. This time, she was standing firm with her chin sticking out, strong and daring, exactly the way she looked the day he… But that was all such a long time ago! He didn't hope he would live to see her like that again.

"Good evening."

 _What happened to 'Good evening, Mr. Russia'?_ he wondered, undeniably intrigued.

"I came to suggest a deal," she said in business-like fashion, plunging her eyes into his. That didn't happen a lot.

"Go ahead." Ivan had no idea what was going on. And couldn't wait to find out.

"I'm asking you to let my brother go."

 _I wouldn't be able, even if I tried._ _You must know that much, little one,_ he inwardly sighed, but said nothing.

"I know what you want," the girl went on. "If you agree to set him free, I'll give it to you."

One of his eyebrows moved up a little.

"And what would that be?" he laughed. "What could I possibly want that I don't have already? That I can't take anytime I like?"

Without a word, Eva walked towards the spare mirror, then slowly ran a finger over the reflection of his face.

"I've always wondered what's behind that façade. Let's find out," she suggested, then pulled. This time, the key was in the lock.

"I won't open it. We both know what's inside."

A silence fell on the room.

"Go away now," he finally spoke. "Don't talk about it. And it might be you won't get punished for disrespecting my privacy."

"Of course I won't. Someone else will. Someone else wears my scars. And I want that to end today."

Then, he finally allowed himself to sigh openly.

"You're still young, little one. You're feeling brave. Like nothing is impossible. But some things are." He gestured towards the closet. "So stop wasting my time."

"I _can_ give you what you want."

 _Ah, little girl…_

"What do you know about what I want?" the Russian inquired in a worn-out tone. "What do you even know about me? Leave now and consider yourself lucky that I -"

"A baby," Eva broke in.

In Moscow, cutting off your superior always earned you a good slap. Still, that moment, despite himself, Ivan just wouldn't move, his melancholy unexpectedly overshadowed by interest.

"You claim you visit prisons but instead, you go to orphanages. You tell everybody you're working out while sitting on benches and staring at playgrounds. And now the wardrobe full of baby stuff. You want a child. An heir. I can give you one."

He said nothing, just contemplated her in a purely expressionless way - a perfect cover for those rare times when some stray emotions happened to make their way to his core. Truth be told, quite a few just had.

"Moldova's too young and there's no way Hungary would ever let you close enough, much less Georgia. But I am here. Almost eighteen. Untouched. And perfectly healthy. First class gene pool, what with my central position and all those nations mixing at my place. And I know you like me. A perfect mother for a perfect heir, don't you think? A son, strong as a god and talented in countless ways! Or a daughter, untouchable in her wisdom and supreme beauty. Everyone will know them, love them and fear them." With their eyes still locked, she untied the knee-long cardigan, then let it slide down her naked arms, suddenly standing there in nothing more than a light summer dress. The one that always made him look at her a split second longer than necessary.

"What do you say, _Ivan_?" She smiled, playfully raising her brow while tilting her head sideways.

For a while, he said nothing, just held her gaze. Then, bit by bit, his features relaxed until a tiny smile graced his lips.

" _Eva_."

His voice speaking her name sent a shiver down the girl's spine.

"I can't give him his freedom, that's not in my power. Nonetheless, I can promise you no more violence. And a considerable improvement for his life and work conditions. Is that acceptable?"

The Slovak nodded.

"Good." He patted the spot next to him. "Now come here."

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 29-_


	30. Chapter 30

"Now come here."

Eva did as she was told, the way she had acted since she could remember.

Her speech went well, so well she herself couldn't believe it. She didn't know she had that seductress deep inside; letting her out to breathe felt like becoming another person altogether, one that she only watched from the outside. No, nothing could have touched her where she was.

Only now… Now that she sat down next to him, she realized at last what was _really_ going on. What she'd got herself into. And all she wanted was turn around and run away. But there was no turning around anymore.

 _And now he'll tear that dress off me and those giant merciless hands will touch me everywhere oh God_ everywhere _and he'll defile me and use me and oh God I can't deal with this I want to die I want to die I want to die I wa-_

"You read this to me, _da_?" His voice, cold and smooth as ice, brought her back to Earth. She nodded, then took what he was handing her. A book. _A book?! Wait, what?! Is this his idea of a foreplay?!_

* * *

"...The prince and princess had a beautiful wedding where the whole kingdom ate lots of _pirozhki_ , drank vodka and had a jolly good time. And they lived happily ever after. Конец."

Eva closed the book and glanced at Ivan lying by her side. He looked like an angel with his fair locks, almost asleep, clutching onto his favorite plush toy.

"That would be all, little one," he murmured. "Спокойной ночи."

"Спокойной ночи, Mr. Russia," she replied, adjusting his blanket.

"Vanya. And… Eva?"

"Yes, Vanya?" The leaving brunette turned to look at him.

"If anyone asks, we had relations."

"Of course!" she replied without reflection and disappeared.

 _Like anyone would ever believe the truth,_ she thought on the way back to her room.

* * *

 _(A/N: You thought there would be sexy time, didn't you? ;D )_

* * *

 _There you are,_ Ivan smiled to himself as he entered the kitchen. The Slovak was standing at the counter with her back to him, busy with the dishes. She didn't seem surprised as he moved closer, lightly pressing his body against hers. His hands rested on her shoulders while he nuzzled the brown hair.

"I _really_ enjoyed last night," he murmured. "Will you be coming again tonight?"

"I might," she breathed seductively back.

Satisfied, he left again, taking no note of the flash of blond hair disappearing in the hallway.

* * *

Whoever said that kids were simple creatures, they were wrong. Kids are at least just as intricate as adults.

Eva felt that reading a book again wouldn't do. She needed to move things up a notch to keep Ivan interested. Her mind wandered back to the times when she was a child herself and soon enough, she figured it out.

"Ivan," she started solemnly as she entered his room that night. "I've just overheard a rather disturbing conversation between our bosses. I… There's no easy way to tell you this, but…" She paused for dramatic effect. "I'm afraid we're in a war."

"A _war_?" he repeated, frowning.

"That's right. A TICKLE WAR!" she yelled, then jumped on the Russian, aiming straight for his ribs.

* * *

"Belarus? Are you here with me?"

Her boss's growling interrupted a train of disturbing thoughts. She nodded and tried to look interested, even though, in truth, she couldn't wait for him to leave again. After what she had witnessed in the kitchen earlier, she found it impossible to concentrate on anything else.

When the meeting was finally over, she flew upstairs, never stopping before she reached her brother's bedroom door. She leaned in to listen and the last drops of hope instantly evaporated. All she could hear was panting, a tired sigh of bliss here and there.

* * *

The sixtieth anniversary of the Soviet Union was just around the corner and the whole house seemed to be upside down. Ivan decided to organize an amazing party for everyone, including the satellites. But what really happened was that Ivan just decided. Any actual organizing was left to his subordinates.

Natasha wanted to be perfect for her beloved brother. She never seemed to be satisfied with her dress, so Eva spent whole weeks doing round-trips to the tailor's. December weather was cruel and when Belarus finally declared being "halfway happy" with the result, the other Slav almost jumped in joy. Except there were still shoes and accessories to buy. And the Belorussian insisted on checking every single shop in Moscow. Accompanied, of course.

The D-day came. Slo had just redone Natasha's hair for the seventh time and the blonde, at last, approved of the result. Probably just because the party was about to start, but the Slovak didn't care as long as she was being freed.

"After you, Miss." Eva forced herself to smile as she opened the door for Natalia. The latter frowned.

"Are you crazy? You can't go down there looking like that!" She eyed the brunette up from the ground, pinpointing all of her imperfections (which seemed to be manifold). "Sit down. I'll help you look pretty. Or try."

Eva's body refused to move.

"Come on," Natasha urged. "All I'll be asking is that you wear it the whole evening. For me. Come on, it will make me happy!"

However unwilling, Eva complied. It wasn't like she had a choice or something. And it felt almost nice when Belarus started to brush her hair. Maybe she _wasn't_ rotten to the core, after all… She had to fight the urge to lay down her guard.

"Now a nice jewel, that can never hurt," Natalia purred as she attached a cute necklace around Eva's neck. The Slovak was tempted to have a look into the mirror, but that would have required turning her back to Belarus.

"Oh, silly me, I forgot about the make up. Let's put on some eyeshadows. Close your eyes."

Eva wanted to shake her head in refusal, but found herself unable to do so. The Belorussian's gaze seemed equally piercing and merciless as her blade. And just like a wild animal looking at an approaching car, she sat there, petrified. Whatever she'd do now, it couldn't end well. So, once again, she obeyed.

And then there was Natasha grabbing her hair, pulling on it so strongly she wanted to cry, something wet and weird-smelling brushing against her forehead and the blonde's rough hands pushing her out of her room.

"Don't forget! You'll need to wear it the whole evening!" the Belorussian sang happily before slamming the door shut. _An evening?! You're good for a few_ weeks _to come, disgusting little thing._

* * *

Eva ran to the bathroom. The second she finally saw herself in the mirror, she almost went down on her knees. Her guts were right. It was bad. Very bad.

She started to run through the cabinets and drawers, scrubbing her skin with everything she found. Half an hour later, she looked up again. Her eyes started to feel hot. Nothing had helped.

Written in a thick pitch-black marker, those giant letters were still there on her forehead, mocking her, hurting her, driving he desperate. She covered her eyes, but the word was already burnt into her mind.

 **Блядь.**

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 30-_

* * *

Translations (all in Russian):

Конец = The End

Спокойной ночи = Good Night

Блядь = Whore


	31. Chapter 31

A familiar silhouette caught Toris's eye as he was passing the semi-open bathroom door. He knocked, then peeked in. Eva's hand shot up to cover her forehead. She greeted him and tried to fake a smile, but Toris recognized a beaten face when he saw one. He moved closer, trying to make out what was behind her palm. She turned away. As lightly as possible, he laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Slut," she whispered, turning to face him again. Her brows were furrowed, eyes shiny with tears.

Lithuania was a bit taken aback, to say the least. He didn't see a reason why such a nice young lady would give him such a nasty name. It was true that the chambermaid uniform made him look somewhat, well, _easy_ , but he wasn't even wearing it at that very moment.

"The writing on my forehead. It says I'm a slut," she explained, trying to stifle a sob.

"Aah," Toris managed in sudden realization.

"It's written on my forehead and it won't go away. And soon, one sixth of the world will see it."

His eyes ran all over the bathroom. A dozen of empty pots and bottles were lying all around. She'd already tried everything she could think of. But not all _he_ could. He reached into one of the messy drawers.

"Close your eyes," he requested. For understandable reasons, Eva refused.

"Let me help. We must help each other," he purred soothingly as he reached out for her hair. Another familiar phrase brought back another dark memory of hers. She instantly backed away.

"I'm _never_ gonna sleep with you, okay?!" she snapped.

For a split second, the Lithuanian wondered where the hell _that_ came from, then decided it did not matter. Living under Russia's roof was enough to drive anyone crazy, let alone a teenage girl. After all, she should have been eating ice cream with her friends, picking lipsticks, learning to drive or whatever it was young ladies did. He couldn't help feeling sorry for her.

"I think I can live with that," he retorted in his usual, soft voice. To his surprise, the girl blushed and loosened up a little, even apologized.

"That's okay. Now, please, do as I ask and let me deal with it."

Eva obeyed. She felt hair tickling her cheeks and nose, but only uncovered her eyes once he had told her to. As she leaned over to have a wash, she noticed herself in the mirror. Her heart jumped. She now had a fringe. A cute, wavy one, covering everything that needed to be covered while perfectly framing her face.

The Baltic wiped the scissors and put them back in their place. She touched her hair, still unbelieving. Except now that the fear of humiliation was gone, another problem took its place. Belarus ordered her to wear it... And bad things happened when you disobeyed Natalia Arlovskaya. A bad thing was the last thing she needed.

But Toris and Eva were peers. They might not have spent loads of time together, they never talked a whole lot either, but they were both their masters' shadows and didn't need much more than that to read each other's mind. He took a gentle hold of her chin, making her look into the mirror again.

"You _are_ wearing it, aren't you?" He winked. Eva smiled and finally allowed herself to relax a bit, closing her eyes (knowing that now she could), drifting away for a while. When she opened them again, the young man was gone.

* * *

Throughout the whole festive meal, Eva tried to act natural, pretending she wasn't aware of Belarus's scowling. As if it wasn't enough, Ivan felt an urge to (albeit unknowingly) contribute to her predicament.

"That's a lovely new hairstyle, Slovakia," he observed. "Did you cut your hair yourself?"

Telling the truth would get her savior in trouble, so she just nodded.

"I can use a haircut, too. How about you come see me in my room later tonight?"

Eva nodded again, wondering how many times had Belarus already mentally murdered her. From then on, serving her became pure misery.

* * *

 **Prague, 1928**

"Don't get me wrong, baby girl. I don't have anything against him, definitely not more than he has against me. What I'm wondering about is whether you are happy as his housewife. Are you?"

Instead of replying, Eva served both of them more _borovička_. Even though she did everything to hide it, slowly but surely, her drinking was getting out of hand.

"Feliks," she started a while later, pretending to look out of the window where there was absolutely nothing interesting to see. Her voice sounded tired, too tired for her age. "He works hard for us. Deals with internal and foreign affairs. Industry. Half of the agriculture. Social system. Housing. Healthcare. Culture. Education. All the meetings and conferences. And so on and so forth."

"Yes. But _you_ have to deal with _him_."

* * *

 _(A/N:_ Borovička _is a traditional Slovak alcohol.)_

* * *

 **Moscow, 1984**

Slo woke up and glanced at the clock. She now knew Ivan's room just as well as her own one.

Usually, she would only come in late evenings, but that afternoon, he wanted to have a nap and since his favorite cuddly toy was being cleaned, he needed a replacement.

She tried to break free from his arms, which only resulted in him hugging her tighter. She had a bigger chance of forcing a wild bear into a too-too skirt than preventing all that muscle and sinew from keeping her in place.

"Vanya." She tugged on his sleeve. No reply came.

"Vanyusha, let me go. It's Thursday and half past five already, I'm supposed to cook dinner."

With a moan of discontentment, Ivan finally opened his eyes. He didn't seem to have any intention of releasing his grip, though.

"NATASHAAA!" he suddenly yelled so loudly Slo's ears started to ring. Then, a horrific realization popped up in her brain. _Natasha! Oh. God. No!_

Just as expected, mere seconds later, the Belorussian's approaching steps could be heard. Eva hid under the duvet just before the blonde walked in.

"Yes, brother?" she asked lovingly.

"Do you mind taking care of the dinner tonight?"

It was so incredibly hot under the duvet that Eva could barely breathe.

"Of course not, dear brother! What would you like?"

"I don't know," he replied, thinking. " _Pirozhki_? No, we had that two days ago. I'm getting tired of _pelmeni_ , too. And…"

 _Please, Ivan, just pick something,_ Eva moaned to herself.

"How about _kotleti_?"

"I often get stomachache afterwards, but maybe if… Oh, I don't know."

 _A minute more, I can wait a minute more, come on, Eva, you can do this, you can do this…_ Her mental battle chant was more effective than she expected. Suddenly, she felt as if her lungs were being filled with fresh air again. Then, she realized it wasn't the power of positive thinking, just Ivan who had raised the duvet.

"What would you like for dinner, Eva?"

* * *

 _So now_ I _am cooking for_ you _,_ Belarus thought. She couldn't understand herself how she'd managed to stay so calm, but it seemed to have come naturally. And when, around midnight, the anger finally started to bubble out, she chose not to hold it back anymore. Seething rage seemed to have mingled into her blood, reaching and filling every bit of her existence, driving her as wild as never before. _You've had your chances and your warnings. Now it's time for you to pay for your actions._

 _Shameless whore._

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 31-_


	32. Chapter 32

**Prague, 1938**

"This is embarrassing," Eva whispered. "I've got nothing to offer you. I was just about to go shopping."

 _It would be easier to believe you if you didn't look like you've just crawled out of a dustbin,_ Feliks thought.

"Don't worry. All I want is a bit of your time."

He followed her to the kitchen. The last time he'd seen it, it was spic and span. Back that day, he tried to reason with her, but she asked him to leave, implying that he shouldn't come back anytime soon. After ten years of sulking, he decided to get over it and pay her a visit again. And he was glad he did.

The kitchen was now a perfect reflection of its Mistress - dirty and messy with an unpleasant smell.

Eva poured them some _slivovica_ \- the only thing available in the house. Silence fell on the room.

"You've tried to run away," he stated seemingly apropos of nothing.

"I have," she breathed distantly after a while. "But we let bygones be bygones. We're living together again."

"I heard you that day. You told him lots of mean things. How many of them were made up?"

The brunette refilled their glasses. It was Feliks's second and her fifth. She gave his question a thought.

' _You're a freeloader. A womanizer. And a jerk!'_

Freeloader - that was half true. He always fulfilled his professional duties, but barely ever helped at home. And sometimes, there was little work at the office and plenty to do around the house. And sometimes, she would have loved him to do the dishes so she could have a look at that interesting project or another...

Womanizer - more yes than no. He never tried to seduce her, but never failed to chase other skirts, either. Which always made her feel angry and humiliated.

Jerk - ...

"How do you define a jerk?" She looked questioningly at Feliks.

"Someone who claims he loves you while denying you your own happiness."

 _Someone who wakes up in the morning, puts on clothes I washed and ironed for him, without a word shovels down the breakfast I have cooked, then, while I slave around the house, he travels to fascinating places, meets interesting people, attends parties until it's four already and he goes to the pub to drink a few beers and fool around with the waitress and afterwards heads home, eats warm dinner I've made from scratch, complains about something and goes to bed. Without so much as a single 'Thank you'..._

"Baby girl, your lip's bleeding."

She covered her mouth and lowered her gaze.

"I almost put something in his meal the other day."

Silence again.

"Have you tried talking to him?" the Pole inquired.

"Too many times." She sighed.

"Then there's only one thing left to do."

"What for? He'll just drag me back here again." The brunette wanted to pour them some more drink, but her hand was too shaky. Feliks grabbed the bottle and took the now free hand into his.

"I have a plan."

* * *

 **A few minutes later**

"What if he gets hurt?"

"He won't," the blond reassured her. "They think he's one of them. They want him live and well."

Eva reached inside her locks to scratch herself and grimaced as she extracted something that looked a lot like a piece of a scrambled egg.

"I can't even take care of my own hair anymore," she whimpered.

"Maybe it's a bit too long. Let's cut it so you can concentrate on what matters the most."

She shuddered at the idea.

"It's a part of my identity."

"If it is, it'll grow back."

 _Hungary tried to cut my hair twenty years ago,_ Eva remembered with a shiver running up her back.

"I don't trust Erzsébet," she finally admitted.

"Do you trust _me_?"

"Yes."

"Well, I _trust_ Erzsébet. Oh, by the way, she's sending you a gift."

The teenager puffed and rolled her eyes, then opened them wide as Feliks unwrapped a generous piece of cake.

" _Koláč!_ " she yelped. She somehow managed to find clean dishes and served them both a slice, moaning in bliss at the first mouthful.

"You can eat all of it if you want to." Feliks laughed. "If you throw up on your hair again, it wouldn't even be noticeable."

* * *

 _(A/N:_ slivovica _= another wonder of Eastern-European alcohol industry._

 _About Erzi trying to cut Eva's hair in 1918 - as previously evoked, the Slovak territory was an important part of the Kingdom of Hungary. Suffice it to say that Hungarians didn't give it up easily.)_

* * *

 **Moscow, still in 1984**

The sound of someone fiddling with the doorknob woke Eva instantly up. She was relieved to see nobody entered. She'd locked the door earlier when changing to her pajamas and forgot to unlock it again.

Her relief was short-lived, though. First, there was an unnatural silence. Then, that blood-curdling scratching sound. And, before too long, an equally creepy voice joined in.

"Open the door… I know you're awake."

There was no way in hell Eva would open the door.

"Did you like my cooking? I hope you still have a little space left for the dessert."

Scratching intensified.

"Open the door, open the door," the voice insisted. "So I can scoop out your eyes for laying them on brother. And cut off your fingers for touching him. And make you EAT ALL OF IT!"

Scratching turned into a stabbing sound. Eva panicked. She had no weapon but her tears and they wouldn't be of much use. Her gaze fell on her handbag. _The first aid kit._

"Open the door! Open the door! OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!"

* * *

With pieces of wood falling to her feet, she went on stabbing.

"You... bitch! You... little...BITCH!" she spat in synchrony with her movements. And there it was. The first hole appeared. She went on jabbing, fierce and tireless, determined to make it bigger, bigger and bigger until… Until a bony hand grabbed hers?!

"Go back to sleep, Natalia."

In an instant, she turned the weapon against him, but he was expecting it. The steel merely brushed against his face. He grabbed her wrist and forced it backwards so strongly she went down on her knees in pain. The bone had been broken before and he knew it.

"Leave me alone!" she wanted to command, but it came out all weak and dejected.

"I hate to put you through this, Natalia, I swear I do. Alas, it's the only way. This is all for your own good. Now let's get you back to your room." He guided her away. Natasha didn't fight. Her face was covered in tears of frustration and unspeakable pain, but she'd sooner be dead than let the moron hear her sob. "The next time I'm telling Ivan."

Before starting his night guard in front of Belarus's door, he peeked through the hole to check on the other girl. She was lying on her bed, motionless, probably sound asleep. _Good for her._

Little did he know that Eva was just far too scared to move, let alone sleep. That would mean letting go off the scissors hidden under her pillow.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 32-_


	33. Chapter 33

**Warsaw, still in 1984**

Feliks and Toris were just talking about the upcoming Friendship Games when Eva entered.

"Sorry to bother you, guys. Lithuania, Russia needs to see you."

The Baltic hung down his head, then stood up and resignedly started for the front door. As he was passing Eva by, she stopped him.

"What happened to you?" she asked, intrigued by the light but long wound stretching across his face.

"I cut myself while shaving." He shrugged.

"There is no hair that high on your cheek."

"Because I shaved it." He smiled.

As Eva leaned in to have a closer look at Toris's cheek, the Pole chuckled. From his angle, it looked like they were about to kiss.

Then again… Why not?! He was surprised it hadn't occurred to him earlier. They were perfect for each other. _Perfect._

"Everything alright? How come you're in bed at this time of the day?" the girl inquired in a worried tone once Toris had left. "Old wounds giving you a hard time again?"

"Actually, I'm getting up really early tomorrow, so I thought it would be easier if today I didn't get up at all," Feliks replied. Eva smiled dismissively and removed the duvet to help him exercise the sore leg.

"He's single, you know."

The brunette didn't even look up.

"What does that have to do with your medical condition?" she mumbled.

"Not much." Feliks shrugged. "Just that he's a nice guy. And you'll soon be of age."

"What age?"

"Well, you know, finding yourself a man."

Pol almost cried out in pain as the girl stretched his limb beyond what he thought possible. Lots of ideas and feelings were squirming in her head, but she didn't feel like sharing any of them.

"Feliks, I know he's your friend. I don't mean to be rude," she breathed after a while.

"Just say what's on your mind."

Eva walked over to the window. The shrinking silhouette was still visible on the horizon. He surely was a good person, a great colleague, too. Even so, beyond that, she didn't want to have anything to do with him.

His hair was chestnut, just like Hynek's. But his was shorter, strong and shiny, not long and droopy like Toris's. Eyes, too. They both had blue eyes. But Hynek's weren't that washed out, tired blue. They had a hint of green and that dreamy, mischievous spark in them. Hynek had broad shoulders and a nice, manly silhouette, while the other man didn't seem to have enough fat or muscle to envelop his whole body. Lanky. Lanky was the word.

Hynek had that special spot between his neck and shoulder which always molded perfectly with her chin. He was the only one she wanted in her life… but she couldn't. How was that fair?!

Feeling the tears coming, all she wanted was to curl up in a corner and let it all out… but again, she couldn't.

"I think I'd be too jealous of him. He looks much better in that maid uniform than I ever would." She faked a deep sigh, then let out a laugh. But Feliks knew it was just as fake. It was his domain, after all.

* * *

Maybe not in the way Feliks would have preferred, but still, Toris's face just wouldn't leave Eva's mind. As soon as he finished cleaning up the kitchen that night, she took his hand, leading him upstairs.

"I don't know how to thank you," she said, never meeting his gaze.

"The haircut? Oh, that was a long time ago."

"No. I mean the other night."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you are talking about," he replied nonchalantly. The Slovak paid no attention to his little white lie.

"I don't have money to give you. So, please, accept this as a token of my gratitude." All of a sudden, they were standing in front of Belarus's room. Eva retrieved a key from her pocket and opened it, letting both of them in.

"Everyday clothes are in there." She pointed to the left side of the wardrobe. "While party dresses and suites are on the right. Underwear's in the bottom drawer, fake jewelry in the top one. The truly valuable pieces are under the bed. Makeup and hair accessories could be found in her bathroom. Don't worry, she won't be back before tomorrow noon, so she'll never find out. I have to do the cleaning, though. That means you have until eight o'clock. Do you want me to change the sheets for you first?" she asked, already halfway out of the room.

"Definitely not," Toris answered dreamily, so she took her leave.

* * *

Eva was convinced Toris would like her gift. No one could miss the longing looks he would never fail to give Natalia. And she understood - Belarus's outfits were the loveliest and the most trendy in the whole house. Even she herself was dying to try them on.

That was why, when she entered the room the next morning to wake the Baltic up, she was somewhat taken aback. The wardrobes and drawers seemed untouched. Instead, he just lied there sound asleep, hugging one of the pillows. On that pillow rested a framed picture which usually stood on the bedside. It was a portrait of Natasha and her brother, but since the Russian was now covered with a sock, it looked more like the blonde was smiling at Toris.

Feliks later confirmed that his friend wasn't a cross-dresser, that he was _bullied_ into wearing that French maid outfit. But already at that very moment, Eva knew for sure he never dreamt about putting Natalia's clothes on. He dreamt about taking them off.

 _Poor guy._ She decided to allow him an hour more.

* * *

 **Moscow, 1985**

Once Ivan cuddled with a human being, he couldn't get back to plush toys. One night, he got so lost on his way to dreamland that he ended up at her door.

"I am sorry to wake you up, little one."

"You didn't wake me up," Eva muttered, struggling to hide her frustration. Following the late night adventure with Natalia, she _did_ lose her sleep for a while. Still, she was kind of hoping to count the hours in peace.

The Russian entered, aiming for her bed to make himself comfortable. When he sat down, he suddenly froze. He forced his weight against the mattress and bounced off. He started to laugh as he did it again and again.

"Your bed…" He looked at Eva.

"Yes, it's _small_. So maybe you should…"

"It's bouncy! Mine isn't like that!" He started to jump up and down on the mattress, the old bed frame creaking beneath, threatening to break any second.

 _I didn't sign up for_ this, resigned Eva curled up in a corner.

But Natalia, laying wide awake in the next room, couldn't see that. Natalia could only hear. And that was all she needed to draw her conclusions.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 33-_


	34. Chapter 34

**Moscow, 1986**

Time went by, but Eduard couldn't stop thinking about what he'd seen and heard that day in the lodge. He had never been so happy about a woman refusing him. That night - indirectly, but still - she saved his skin.

And what did _he_ do for _her_? Nothing. Except - indirectly, but still - inflicting suffering on the one she treasured the most.

He found Eva in the laundry room. She would often sit there. With the machine on, it was the warmest room in the whole house.

"Do you have a minute?"

"I'm busy," the brunette mumbled, turning a page of the book she was reading.

"Then I'll come back later."

"Don't," she replied simply.

"Please, Eva. I came to apologize." The girl said nothing, so he went on. "The date… You were right to feel offended. You were vulnerable. And I manipulated you. _Of course_ I wanted to sleep with you. And after you rejected me, I was too proud to interact with you again. That time you had an accident with the wine - I saw that the bottle was dripping, but I didn't warn you. I should have helped you with the shirt, too - maybe we would have figured something out. And the fire was my fault - I smoked there before. I let you down. I did you wrong and you did not deserve it. I'm really, really sorry."

Despite his words and his intent look, her eyes never left the book.

"I know you're angry. It's good to be angry."

"I don't care enough to be angry, Eduard," Eva lied. The Estonian wasn't convinced.

"I suggest you hit me."

Eva finally looked up, blinking.

"Come on, hit me," he repeated. "I know you want to. C'mon, c'mon, scratch that itch."

"Go away."

But Ed knew more about the girl than she believed.

"You're not very fierce for a Hungarian," he said, carefully putting his glasses aside.

"Might be because I'm _not_ Hungarian. I'm _Slovak_ ," she growled back.

"Yep. Slovakia. That's northern Hungary, right?" He snickered. In a flash, Eva sprang up and slapped him.

"That's a warning," the Slav spat. "My one and only!"

"Northern. Hungary," he mocked again. And almost lost his balance when a small fist hit him right in the face. Then again. And again.

Eduard Von Bock had given his plan lots of thought beforehand. He tried to consider every possibility and wasn't afraid of any. _So what if she really hits me? She's just a girl. The worst thing that can happen is that I'd have a bit of a headache._

Eduard Von Bock had never been so wrong.

He had no idea there was so much strength in that delicate body. And verve, too. Once the brunette started, there was no stopping her. And he probably had some kind of craving for his own doom because, when she finally paused to catch her breath, he teased her further.

"Is that all you got?! No wonder they kicked you out of the Empire!"

"They didn't! I _left_!"

Another smack. And a few more. Something cracked. All of a sudden, he found himself on the floor, the girl straddling him and hitting him with an unparalleled fury.

By then, Eva had already dealt with the anger he had caused her, but she decided to use the unique opportunity to take out _all_ the frustration the _whole world_ had _ever_ risen in her. Heaven knows it felt good.

The Baltic didn't know that. Soon, he was sore all over. And even though he thought he'd already purged sufficiently, he didn't try to stop her. _She'll probably run out of energy soon enough,_ he reasoned.

They both froze when, all of a sudden, Belarus entered the room. For a while, she just stood there, eyeing the boy, but mostly the girl sitting on him.

"Блядь," she then spat and left.

Eva turned to Eduard again, fist raised in mid-air. That gleam in her eyes would cause him nightmares for a few weeks to come.

* * *

"Done yet?" Eduard mumbled. And instantly regretted doing so. Broken ribs don't heal in a day, not even if you're a personified country.

"Just a few more stitches, my friend," Slovakia purred happily, pursuing her needlework.

"You know what, Ed?" she started once she'd packed up all her medical equipment. The look Ed gave her suggested he didn't want to know, but she said it anyway.

"No man has _ever_ given me so much pleasure." She kissed his ear and disappeared.

The Baltic sighed in pure despair. His feelings for the girl were now sorely mixed.

* * *

"Any questions, _tovarish_?"

"Just one. There are so many other, more suitable candidates in the Eastern Bloc. Why me?"

He smirked and reached inside my jacket to retrieve the folded sheet of paper I carried everywhere, then gave it a shake and showed me the oh-so-familiar portrait.

"Because you're the only one who will come back."

* * *

I said goodbye to Katyusha. She already knew, but it didn't prevent her from feeling sad. She kissed me longer than usual. I was thankful she didn't cry; I never know what to do with a crying girl. That was why I decided not to see Eva. But don't worry, dear reader, I didn't leave her in all that mess just like that.

I got to pick between a skirt chaser who had previously shown interest in her and a man who would go to a whorehouse to play chess. The quickest choice of my life.

I took a deep breath.

"Litva?"

"Yes?"

"I need to ask you a favour," I finally breathed, doing my best not to let my voice reveal how nervous I was.

"Go ahead."

"Now, I do know you were planning to have a vacation. But pl-"

"I'll cancel," he interrupted.

"Thank you. You see, I'll be off for a few months. Can't really help it. But I can't leave my little sister alone, either."

He said nothing, waiting for me to go on. I turned to look at him.

"I need you to look after her," I said, enunciating every word.

"Alright," he replied without hesitation. "What exactly am I supposed to do?"

"Well, first of all, don't tell anyone we had this discussion, especially not her. Make sure she doesn't get into trouble. Try to help her, comfort her when she's sad. And, as far as possible, keep her from harm." I was starting to think that it would never work. That he'd tell me I was asking for way too much. But all he did was give me a reassuring smile.

"Okay then."

I opened my mouth, then closed it again, covering my face, rubbing my eyes. Such words never came easy.

"Listen, _Toris_. This is not just a regular babysitting job."

"I know." He went on smiling.

"I… I can't stress how important she is to me…"

"I know."

"I doubt that."

"Well, you started a world war for her. Destroyed the Third Reich. Even defied _him_. I get the picture."

And I just sighed.

"I trust you."

"I know. I'll do my best."

"You'll need to do more than that."

"Count on me."

"I am," I whispered.

Silence.

"I've crossed her once or twice," he started. "She seems like a good girl to me. Is there anything particular I should be aware of?"

"Errr…" _Where do I even start?!_ "She thinks she's smarter than everyone. Untouchable, above the law. That the earthly rules don't apply to her. She's moody, sulks a lot and when it comes to grudge-bearing, her performance is just remarkable. She eats far too much ice-cream, especially vanilla-flavored. Leaves hair everywhere, then tries to deny it's hers. And so on and so forth, I can go on all night."

"Like any other teenage girl," he observed, laughing.

"Yeah, I s'pose."

And then, we just sat there in silence again, emptying the vodka bottle as we so often would.

"The next century is almost here. Where do you think we'll be when it comes?" he asked me out of the blue a while later. I shrugged.

"I'll be taking care of Slovakia. Hopefully."

"Wouldn't she be in a relationship by then?"

"I guess she will," I scoffed. "Yeah. I'm pretty sure she'll hook up with some kind of dork just to piss me off."

Litva chuckled.

"Let's hope for the best," he murmured encouragingly, patting my shoulder, still smiling. I couldn't help smiling back. I had to admit his presence was a rather soothing one. They would get on wonderfully with Eva, I knew they would. Oh, if only I... Sorry, I digress again.

"How about you?" I asked. "Where will _you_ be in fifteen years?"

"I'd like to be free again," he said, his face suddenly turning unusually gloomy.

"That's possible, you know."

"Possible, yes. Probable, I'm not sure." He drew his knees towards his chest, bony fingers making their way through the slightly messy hair.

"Let's drink to that, then." I handed him the bottle in an attempt to cheer him up. He gladly took it. Just when he was about to take a swig, he stopped.

"You know what? I'd rather we drink to your sister. To her being kind to you and acting reasonable."

I snorted. And I'd swear I saw the corners of his mouth twitching, too.

"Nah, let's go with that freedom thing," I said, shaking my head. "That's more likely to happen."

* * *

 _(A/N: The 'next century' talk is inspired by one of the Hetalia episodes (I believe it was between Germany and Japan.))_

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 34-_


	35. Chapter 35

Shortly after midnight, I got ready to leave. A car was waiting for me down in the village. I wasn't permitted to take any of my personal belongings with me; Litva kindly suggested he would get rid of them. I only kept her portrait, hidden in the inside pocket of my jacket. Never too far from my heart.

* * *

Toris peeked into the lone drawer. Just a magazine that made him blush and a half-empty box of tea. _Good, we've just ran out of it. At least I won't need to do the shopping,_ he thought as he placed the box in one of the cupboards in Ivan's kitchen.

Then, he went to his room to "deal" with the other item.

* * *

Throughout the last twenty-four hours, Natasha was attending a conference in Minsk, but barely anybody knew. The lengthy train ride let her some time to think about how to teach that vermin a lesson, especially now that the bastard was watching her. She did her homework on the girl and decided that giving her a taste of her own medicine would solve the problem once and for all. And how about multiplying the dose, while she was at it? She liked doing things properly.

"Why won't you ask me what I did last night?" she chirped as Eva was putting some clean clothes into the wardrobe.

 _Because I don't care,_ the other girl thought, but decided it would be safer to ask the desired question.

"I went for a stroll through the forest. I met someone. A young man."

Eva still didn't care.

"He wasn't bad. Not exactly clever, but strong and handsome."

 _Why is she telling me all this?_ the brunette wondered.

"Aren't you going to ask me what happened next?"

"What happened next, Miss Belarus?" a tired, indifferent voice inquired.

"He spoke sweet words to me. Anyway, we decided to get to know each other better. If you know what I mean." With that, Natalia reached towards her sweater and plucked out a few short chestnut hairs. Eva's heart stopped. She struggled not to let it show. The blonde laughed and threw them all into the waste bin. They were worth keeping all those years.

"Do you know what I mean, stupid girl?"

Her maid nodded, speechless.

"I should hope so. It seems to be the only thing you can do anyway. Now, aren't you going to ask me how it was?"

"How was it?"

"You forgot 'Miss Belarus'."

The cracking sound of a clenching fist.

"How was it, Miss Belarus?" she asked through grinding teeth.

"It wasn't bad. So I let him do it again."

Eva studied a nearby hairbrush for a while. The handle was hard; if she were to hit the right spot, she might just...

"Ask me what happened next."

Despite every fiber of her being crying "No!", she obeyed.

"He fell asleep. I needed some rest, too. But he snored. So I cut his throat," Natalia replied, her voice bearing traces of no emotion whatsoever.

Eva heard her laugh through the open window as she ran to the lodge, but couldn't bring herself to stop. She needed to be sure. Once there, she swung the door open. To her relief, there were no corpses or traces of bloodshed, just good old Ukraine cracking pea pods.

"People just won't knock these days," Katya moaned.

"I-I am sorry," the other Slav managed, still recovering from her shock.

"Don't worry. Did you need something?"

"I came to visit Czechia. Apparently he's not here. When he gets back, can you please tell him his sister was around?"

"I'm afraid he won't be back anytime soon. Brother sent him away."

Eva didn't know what to say.

"Wait." Ekaterina blinked. "You are his _sister_? Oh, darling, you've got no idea what you're missing!" She gave out a hearty laugh. "My, did I say something wrong?"

The frowning brunette didn't answer her question. Instead, as quickly as her lungs allowed her, she ran back to the manor.

 _Traitor!_ Eva wanted to yell, except that when she finally stormed into Ivan's office, there was not enough oxygen left in her body. So she just stood there, red and panting. With a languid gesture, he offered her a chair, but she didn't move a bit, just went on glaring at him through her narrowed eyes.

"What... did you... do?" she finally choked out.

"I've promised to improve his life and work conditions. I kept the promise," he explained matter-of-factly.

"You've sent... him away!"

"Appreciate it. He'll represent me in some very delicate diplomatic matters. That's an important step for his career. Not everyone is so lucky."

"You've sent him away!" she repeated, enunciating every word.

Ivan stood up and walked over to her, seemingly not moved by her rage.

"Yes, Slovakia. I've sent him away. Would you like to share your opinion on this topic?"

Sharing your opinion rarely paid in the Eastern Bloc. Even Eva knew that. So she just shook her head and left.

* * *

Where did Eva go? Well, to the library. That always put things into perspective. Once she emerged from that dusty, abandoned room, she headed back upstairs.

"Hi, Eduard, can I come in?" She peeked through the semi-open door.

"Sure," he mumbled, trying not to sound too tense. And not to gulp too loudly as she locked the door behind herself, clutching onto half a dozen books. Hard cover.

"Are you good at nuclear physics?"

An hour later, they were still there.

"So, unless I'm mistaken, should, _for some reason_ , the steam suddenly build up, its pressure would increase as well. Until, most likely, resulting in an explosion."

The blond slowly nodded.

"But, if there's an explosion of such magnitude, that means the reactor parts will fly into the air, catch fire, and, carried by the wind, contaminate all the surrounding territories."

Her friend nodded again. His face was now white like never before.

"Wonderful! Err, I meant, _how awful_! Thank you, Ed. Oh, by the way, this conversation never happened."

Eduard just stared at her, unable to speak. Eva reached out towards his forehead, perfectly indifferent to his wincing.

"I see we'll be taking out your stitches soon," she observed seemingly apropos of nothing. "Wouldn't it be a shame if -"

"Okay!" he snapped. "This conversation never happened!"

"Which conversation?" Eva asked sweetly, kissed his ear and left.

* * *

"Good morning, young lady. Travelling for business or pleasure?"

"Let's say both. A two-way ticket to Chernobyl, please."

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 35-_


	36. Chapter 36

A catastrophe of such an extent required Russia's sisters to leave immediately for their places. It was rumored they had both lost all of their hair and a significant part of their skin. They wouldn't be back before the end of 1989.

Ivan left for a few weeks, then got back, but nobody would see much of him. He'd spend most of the time in his office; he even had his meals brought to him. That was a huge relief to everyone, especially to Eva, who couldn't even hear his name without her tension rising.

* * *

 **Somewhere outside the Eastern Bloc, still in 1986**

The journey and arrival were one big haze; I was too tired. All I remember is that, when I got off the plane, another car was waiting for me and took me to a hotel where I instantly fell asleep.

I must have napped for twenty-four hours straight and would have probably slept much longer if the cleaning lady hadn't woken me up. She looked pretty in that simple uniform, with her brownish skin and jet-black ponytail. I smiled. She smiled back. I guess you can figure out the rest.

I dreamt of Eva, so when I woke up again, I decided to call her. By then, she would have already found out I was gone. I struggled with the phone and waited for quite some time, but in the end, I reached the right place. And, quite by chance, the right person.

"Braginsky residence." My heart jumped at the sound of her voice.

" _Princezničko,"_ I whispered helplessly. She gasped. Neither of us knew what to say, so we just stayed on the line, listening to each other's breathing.

In the meantime, the woman next to me woke up. I'd completely forgotten about her.

"Your girlfriend?" she mumbled. Her voice was colored with sleepiness and some unknown accent.

"My _sister_ ," I explained in a hushed tone.

"What did you say?" Eva asked on the other side.

"Nothing, sweetheart. I was just talking to a cleaning lady." Although I knew I should be hanging up, I just couldn't.

"I gather you can't tell me where you are?" she tried timidly.

"I'm afraid not," I sighed.

"Then… just the direction," she pleaded. "So I know which way to look to see you coming back."

Her struggling not to cry almost made me cry myself.

"West, darling. I went west."

* * *

 _Translation:_

Princezničko (in Czech) = little princess (vocative form)

* * *

After I hung up, we fooled around some more until we both drifted to sleep. When I woke up again the next day, my mysterious lover was gone.

Lying in the bed, I decided I deserved one more day off. After all, it wasn't like the work would actually go away or something.

I went to the breakfast room, but all they had were sugar-coated cereals and I've never really had a sweet tooth. Even their bread was sweet somehow. So I just had a cup of coffee (which, on the other hand, was surprisingly good) and decided to walk to a place where I could get some actual food.

Only after two hours' walk did I realize that I wasn't home anymore. Streets were weird - they were all running at right angles to each other. Also, they were really big - obviously made for cars. Barely anybody walked there and I was starting to understand why. Despite my lengthy stroll, I still couldn't find a single place to eat. So the second I finally noticed a bus stop, I was more than relieved.

I quickly reached the right part of the city and picked the classiest restaurant - it was Ivan's money, after all. I asked them to bring me what their customers liked the most. Mere minutes later, I was staring at a piece of meat that would normally provide me and Eva both with lunch _and_ dinner.

I cut through and shuddered. It's not really in my mentality to complain, but when the waiter came over and asked whether everything was okay, I explained the meat was bleeding. It took him two trips to the kitchen and back to get it just right - we didn't seem to have the same definition of 'well-cooked'. But when, at last, I had the first bite, it felt like heaven in my mouth.

With my stomach pleasantly full, I decided to give walking one more chance, discovering plenty of other strange things on the way. People were of all the possible races and origin. Schoolgirls all wore the same clothes. The Flag seemed to be everywhere. And when, at the end of the day, I found a nice bar where to have a drink, they asked for an ID! I laughed as I showed them my passport. At my place, thirteen-year-old brats would go drinking and barely anybody cared. I ordered a beer, had a sip and almost choked. Yes, it was awfully bland, but something else surprised me even more.

I pulled the photograph out of my pocket and compared with the person on the far side of the room. Tall. Dirty blond. Blue eyes. It was him. Definitely. Except he didn't look as confident as in the picture. Maybe because of that mountain of muscle plucking him against the wall, looking like he was about to kill him.

"You fucked my girlfriend!" the mountain roared.

"No! You're confusing me with someone!" his victim replied, probably not as assertively as he would have wanted. He was in for a treat and he knew it.

I wondered what to do. I was positive he did fuck the girl, but who was I to judge?! He needed help and he needed it quickly. Except that if I was to intervene, the giant would just grab us both and simultaneously strangle us. Police would never get here in time. And if something was to happen to him, I wouldn't exactly help _me_ , either. What do I do? _Think! Think! Think!_

All of a sudden, I had an amazing idea.

A second later, I was standing next to the unlucky skirt chaser with my hand around his waist, staring the angry monster in the eye.

"Hey, this is _my_ boyfriend! Go find your own one!" I shouted in his face, then drew my "lover" even closer. He got the memo.

"I told him I wasn't interested, but he just keeps insisting!" he whimpered, face against my shoulder. I looked back at the giant. He didn't seem convinced.

"And now you're taking me for an idiot!" he thundered. "You know what? I'll just beat the shit out of both of-"

"You wanna fight? You wanna fight? Let's fight then!" I retorted, removed my jacket, then the shirt and started to undo my trousers, too.

"Errrr… What the hell are you doing?" the brute inquired with a grimace, cautiously moving away.

"I always fight naked! Now, we're fighting or what?!" Before my trousers could sink under my knees, he was gone. What a relief. I got dressed again, trying not to think about the whole bar staring at me and finally ventured a look at the guy.

"That was amazing!" He let out a loud laugh. "Now let's get going." I didn't want to go anywhere, but he literally pushed me out of the bar into a darkened alleyway. And, before I could say or do anything, I was thrown against a nearby wall, face first. _What the... ?_ _This is what I get for humiliating myself to help him?!_

"What are you-"

"Don't move," he ordered in a cool voice. Just as cool as the metal that suddenly poked the back of my neck. _Shit. This is bad._

"Name?"

"Heinrich Locke."

"Origin?"

"Germany." Yes. That was supposed to be my secret identity. There wasn't a single reason why it shouldn't work. I'd spent enough time with Edelstein and the Beilschmidts to convince anybody. "I'm here to-"

"A fucking commie! I _knew_ it!" he barked. I winced.

"No! _Western_ Germany!"

"A Nazi then!" he shouted even louder.

 _I've been both,_ I mentally sighed. _And I'm not proud of either._

"You've helped me, so I'll give you another chance. You've got three seconds to tell me the truth."

That was bad. Very, very bad. Telling him the truth would put people in the Eastern Bloc in danger. There were still a few of them I cared about.

I suspected this would happen one day or the other. And I'd always wondered how I would react. Probably cry like a baby, beg for mercy and shit myself. Yet now, in the thick of it, however odd it might seem, all I could do was think of Eva's smile.

"One… two…"

In those three seconds, I relived our life together, remembering every last smile she'd ever given me. It made me happy. I just wished I could have seen a few more.

"...three. You're a liar. I don't want liars here. Any last words?"

"Tell my wife, I mean, _sister_ I love her," I whispered. Her portrait against my heart kept it warm.

My eyes closed and my mouth smiled.

His gun went deeper into my flesh.

And then… Nothing.

Just…

Nothing.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 36-_


	37. Chapter 37

**Moscow, still in 1986**

Toris wondered a lot about the abandoned girl.

Watching over her wasn't new to him. Ever since he found out his new friend's sister lived in the house, he felt this urge to keep an eye on her. Vaguely aware of Eva's regular late-night visits to Ivan, he listened at the door once or twice. It only confirmed that there was absolutely nothing to worry about. He knew the Russian far too well.

(Which was also why he was so terrified of him.)

The true problem, just as expected, turned out to be Natalia. He knew the Belorussian well, too.

(Unfortunately, that never prevented him from loving her.)

And thus, he turned into some kind of buffer zone, keeping the girls apart as much as possible.

But things were different now. The Slovak surely needed to _know_ someone was there for her, caring, honest and ready to help if such a need arose. Someone to replace her brother for a while. Still, telling her was out of question. He promised to keep his mission secret.

Moreover, he'd never been of much use around such young broads. How did one approach them? They seemed like a whole different species to him. Therefore, he just went on secretly watching her, waiting for the right moment.

* * *

 **Somewhere outside the Eastern Bloc, still in 1986**

Nothing. Just… nothing.

I blinked, wondering how come I was still alive.

"Wow, dude, that sounds like one hell of a story! I want to hear it." He sat down on the ground and gestured for me to do the same. I was in too much of a shock to move, but he gestured _with the gun_ and that helped.

"Sum-up or full version?" I managed.

"Depends on for how long you want to go on living."

I gave him the special deluxe extended edition.

* * *

"You mean to say you're friends with Lithy?" he yelled, eyes wide with astonishment. Actually, I don't think it was his intention to yell; he generally talked way louder than I was used to.

"Well, yeah." I shrugged.

"Isn't he cool?"

"He's… okay."

"And you hate Ivan."

"Most of the world does."

"That's awesome! Everyone who hates Ivan and is Lithuania's friend is a friend of mine, too! Come on." He held out his hand and literally pulled me up. "Let me give you a proper welcome. I'm Alfred, by the way. Oh, and sorry for having tried to kill you. Just a basic precaution. You know, better safe than sorry. You hungry?" he asked, eyeing my silhouette, considerably thinner than his. Everybody was thin in USSR. Not that there was nothing to eat; it was the appetite we lacked.

"So let me get this straight," he started a while later as we were munching on some chicken wings. At my place, the bucket alone would feed a whole family. "Ivan has sent you here to observe my way of life and then provide him with a report containing all my secrets."

I nodded.

"He sent _you_ , a person undeniably from his house, a person with no spy training whatsoever, to his biggest enemy."

"Yes."

He burst out laughing.

"Dude! You're probably the only guy Ivan hates more than me."

I snorted and shrugged again. _Yes, probably._

"So what will happen now?" I asked after we finished eating.

"Well, I still owe you a big one. Although, of course, I'm the hero - I would have surely found a way to beat the shit out of that guy. So what will happen now is that we'll go get you a bunch of notebooks and plenty of pens. You don't want to get back empty-handed," he said with a smile. He smiled most of the time, but right then, it was sincere. So I smiled back. And we became friends.

As we were leaving the restaurant, I couldn't contain my curiosity anymore.

"I was just wondering. About earlier. How did I blow my cover? How did you know I was lying?"

"Ah, _that_." He rolled his eyes. "You're wearing flag underwear."

* * *

 **Moscow**

The library in Braginsky residence was truly rich, but Ivan preferred to keep some publications in less accessible spots. World atlases, for instance, were placed so high on a shelf that Eva, even when standing on a chair, couldn't reach them. She hesitated before asking Lithuania ( _What if he tells on me?_ ), then decided that all in all, she didn't have that much left to lose.

"Which one would you like? There's quite a bunch."

"One with languages, please. I'm considering learning English. I'd like to know which countries speak it," she recited her carefully prepared lie. The Baltic took a quick glance around the place and, though relieved nobody was around, gave her a stern look.

"I'll act like I haven't heard that. And don't say it in front of the others," he hissed.

"Why?"

"English is the language of Mr. America. He and Russia are arch-enemies," Toris explained in a low voice. "This is his house." He opened the book he'd retrieved and pointed to a continent a long way from Europe, then briefly explained about the Cold War. "But since you're asking, there are other countries who speak the same language. Like…"

Although the Baltic went on and on, Eva had already stopped listening. _That must be it._

She didn't know a single English word, but could identify the language easily. And she had heard Hynek speak it with someone while on the phone. The quality of sound suggested the call wasn't coming from Europe. Also, he had admitted having gone west.

 _This is so like you, Ivan. Delicate diplomatic matters, huh? Delicate indeed. You really have no conscience at all. Sending him to the worst, most dangerous place on Earth. But this time, you've gone too far. I'm really fed up with your shit. And, in case you've forgotten,_ I _don't need a nuke to tear you apart._

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 37-_


	38. Chapter 38

**Moscow, still in 1986**

Even though Eva hated Ivan's guts now more than ever, when he, eventually, had her summoned again, she just couldn't bring herself to hurt him.

He'd lost so much weight he was barely recognizable. His skin turned a disturbing greyish-white shade; dark circles and crow's feet only confirmed that he wasn't doing exactly well. All he wanted was for Eva to let him hold her while he got some sleep. His arms were so weak now she could leave anytime she wanted, yet she just lied there, motionless, perplexed by too many emotions.

By the way, Ivan was no exception. The wind of change was blowing through the whole Eastern Bloc. Kazakhstan's ribs, which, as others often mocked, were so prominent that one could play them like a xylophone, disappeared under a healthy dose of fat. Moldova realized she should probably start wearing a bra (her brother Romania had to help her find the right one, but that's a story on its own). Latvia was happy to notice he now needed to shave; he'd already given up hope of growing chest hair, though. And Georgia was just happy she hadn't grown any chest hair at all, contrary to what boys had told her.

One afternoon, Ivan gave Eva the key to the secret wardrobe, asking her to get him the little green book. She rummaged through all the toys, baby accessories and literature until she found the requested item, then sat down next to him and read.

It was called 'The Fairy Queen' and the story wasn't exceptional in itself – something about a magical forest creature that helped children in the bind. Only when she finished reading and slammed the book shut did she understand.

On the back side of the hard cover, there was glued an illustration of the so-called fairy queen. Eva realized not only the fairy's green dress seemed familiar; she was looking at a drawing of herself.

"The fairy queen. It's you." He smiled shyly.

* * *

"No, _no_." She shook her head in refusal. "That's not me. I'm just… _me_."

Her words seemed to have convinced him even more.

"Oh, please, _please_ , help me!" he suddenly exploded, burying his face between her breasts. Eva was surprised how little of a man and how much of a child there was in that action. She let him cry while she absent-mindedly stroked his hair.

"… economy collapsing… all those constant revolts… and everybody hates me," he sobbed.

Eva realized it should probably feel weird to see her superior like this, but after all she'd witnessed by his side... it just didn't.

"It's too much… far too much… and Chernobyl… that was the last drop… I can't… I can't take it anymore… help me… help me!"

 _What do you expect_ me _to do?! I'm so tiny and powerless,_ Eva thought. So she just went on caressing him.

"Help me," he whispered once more against her chest.

"You know, the planned economy," she finally started. Ivan stopped crying for a bit and listened. "It might not be as flawless as we'd like to believe. Remember when we wanted to draw rainbows, but there was a shortage of green crayons? On the other hand, there were plenty of white ones – nobody buys them, yet they are manufactured in bulks because it's a part of the plan. If they switched to making green crayons instead, people would buy those. And we would be able to draw as many rainbows as we want."

"My idea wasn't perfect, I admit that!" the Russian snapped. "But nothing is! Nobody is!" He started to weep again. "So how can they expect that from me? Worst of all, everybody says I am a liar! And I'm doing it all for their own good!"

 _Can't he just want to sex me like any other man?!_ the exasperated brunette mentally moaned.

"Vanya, the thing is... You can't tell a lie and expect the facts to change along. What is more, it takes time and energy to make up a satisfying lie, even more to maintain it. Like the time you told me you'd brushed your teeth, even though you hadn't. You had to keep your mouth closed for the whole evening so I wouldn't find out the truth. Which, in the end, I did. The next day, you just brushed your teeth and we had a really nice time meowing at that stray cat on the windowsill."

Ivan finally found the courage to leave the comfort of her arms and sat up, facing his companion. He heaved a profound, dolorous sigh.

"It's not just about brushing my teeth. There are other things. Like you didn't fall from the stairs. I hit you," he confessed in a weak voice.

"It definitely took you longer to confess to this one," Eva replied drily.

"I did not want to! It was an order!" he snapped. "And I don't even know how to apologize!" He curled up and rocked himself back and forth. "Sorry doesn't seem to be en-! Hold on, what did you just…?" He blinked. "How come…?"

 _Because I wasn't born yesterday, contrary to what the whole world seems to think!_ Eva thought to herself. Externally, she just shrugged and said she was good with wounds.

"It's not the country things that bother me, you know," she added.

"And still… you're here with me. Is it what they call capture-bonding?" He almost started to cry again.

"I don't think so. I love Vanya, just like I love every child in this world. But Ivan is a monster. He has brought too much hardship to me and those I care about. I'll never love _him_ again. And, sadly, they are one person."

For a while, they just sat there in silence.

"Thank you for your kind services," he then breathed. "I won't be requesting them anymore."

It was time to go to bed. Eva tucked him in.

" _Dobrú noc, Evka._ "

She smiled at those ordinary, yet, at the same time, special words.

" _Dobrú noc, Ivanko._ "

He was happy for that one last smile.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 38-_

* * *

 _Translations:_

Dobrú noc (Slovak) = Good night

Ivanko and Evka are diminutive forms of their names as they exist in Slovak language.


	39. Chapter 39

**Two chapters today :)**

* * *

 **USA, 1986 - 1989**

And thus started the most amazing road trip of my life. We travelled from place to place, ate, drank, smoked (that was some good shit! Nothing to do with Eva's tea), fooled around (not with each other, of course!) and partied like the eternal teenagers we both were. Although, at the beginning, it took some getting used to.

Cars were BIG. Houses were BIG. Even people themselves seemed somehow big to me. Size really seemed to matter at that strange place.

And one more thing about the cars. As we jumped in to hit the highway, I noticed there was no shift gear. At first I didn't really trust the concept, but then, I realized it left you time to do other things when driving. Things you probably shouldn't do while driving, I do admit that. In any case, I still love my good old Škoda more than anything.

"Dude, you're blue. Sure you don't want to put on a jacket?"

Indeed, I was really cold. Despite the nice summer temperature he promised me, the weather seemed to grow harsher with every day.

"I didn't pack a jacket."

"Seriously?! I've told you it would be around thirty where we're going!"

"Thirty! This feels more like ZERO centigrade!"

"What's a centigrade?"

That day, we both learnt something.

"You know what? I have a spare coat in the trunk. What size do you wear?"

You probably think this was followed by a lengthy discussion about the differences in European and US sizes. In that case, guess again.

"Dunno. My wife buys all my clothes." I shrugged.

"Yeah. I don't really know mine, either." He laughed. "Tell you what. We'll stop at the closest mall. I'll go get some groceries and some nice shop assistant will help you out."

Back at home, I hated buying clothes because employees were mostly unfriendly, as if you were bothering them. A typical communist country phenomenon, I think. But there, across the ocean, as soon as you entered, they practically jumped at you, all smiles, promising to provide an ultimate shopping experience. And, although I did quite a lot of shopping during my stay in the US, the first time was definitely the best.

A familiar girl came to welcome me. She was dressed casually and her dark hair was now semi-long and curly, but her smile was the same. I smiled back. I'd never had so much fun in a changing room before. An ultimate shopping experience indeed.

* * *

 _(A/N: I imagine the boys wearing some of those weird 80's hairstyles, like the two dudes from Modern Talking. :) )_

* * *

I'd love to tell you all about that fascinating land, but I'm afraid I don't even know where to start. At my place, you can go from western to eastern border in less than a day; and don't even get me started about the width. While here… In a way, I understood they didn't really go abroad much. They had everything right there at home. Breathtaking mountains, scorching deserts, waterfalls, lakes, caves, ocean, merciless cold and just as unwelcoming heat, clear endless skies, golden fields, skyscrapers so impressive your neck hurts… you name it. And everywhere you go, life is different, food is different, traditions are different and yet, in a way, you're still in the same place. It was like nothing I'd known in my life. We'd spent more than three years on the road and we were still far from having seen everything there was to see.

And people. They were of all possible origins, religions, cultures. Just while riding a tram in San Francisco you would hear at least a dozen of different languages. Anyway, I do admit that some places had more to offer than others. I, for one, was and always will be particularly fond of Texas. That was where I first came across _my_ language.

That day, we stopped in a small city to do the laundry. Although I felt there was something different about the place, I couldn't quite see what. But the second we hit the main street, I understood. I didn't see it; I _heard_ it.

In a flash, I turned around to see a baby girl pulling on her mother's coat and pointing at me. The mother nudged her husband and soon, almost half of all the people in the street were looking at me, whispering and smiling. And I just wished I could hug and kiss every single one of them.

They showed me around in the same way as children show adults their toys. I couldn't believe it. They had a traditional Czech bakery, a Czech hotel and that very weekend, even a Czech festival was taking place! Oh, what a weekend it was! Suddenly, we switched roles and it was _me_ telling Al about _my_ culture, teaching him _our_ dances, buying him _our_ souvenirs, introducing him to _our_ cuisine.

"So you're mocking _me_ because _our_ portions are too big," he laughed, his eyes running over the seemingly endless tables covered in Eastern European delicatessen. "Or are you expecting an army to come by?"

"You can never know." I shrugged as I refilled his beer jug for the fifth time. "And every guest should be treated like a god." Before too long, he passed out on the table. That was when my mysterious lover reappeared, covered him with her jacket and smiled at me. Her brown skin and my traditional clothing were an unusual, but equally lovely mix. I smiled back.

And then, we ate and drank and danced and for those two wonderful days, I was a carefree son of the Czech lands again.

* * *

 _(A/N: So, this city is actually a thing! It's called West and about 40% of the population claims to be of Czech descent. Pretty cool, huh? ;) )_

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 39-_


	40. Chapter 40

Anyway, the festival made me incredibly homesick. So when the next day Al woke up, I tried to tell him that our adventure was nearing its end.

"Really?! I kinda thought you'd be staying here with Ramona," he confessed.

"Who?"

"You know, Miss Mexico. The girl you keep meeting everywhere. Have you told her yet? She can get pretty jealous sometimes."

"No. It's not like that," I laughed and rolled my eyes. To be honest, the two of us never really talked about our relationship. Up to that day, I hadn't even known her name. "Besides, I already have a woman in my life - Katya."

The American blinked.

"You mean Eva."

"No. I'm talking about my girlfriend, _Ekaterina_ ," I clarified.

"Aren't you married to _Eva_?"

I puffed dismissively.

"That's just a convenience marriage, we're not a couple. And she's almost an adult. I'll probably stay with her a few more years, then we'll file for an amicable divorce."

The look on Alfred's face revealed how hard he was trying to process my words.

"So, in Europe you don't marry those you love?" he finally asked.

"You don't understand. She's my sister. My cute little -"

"You love her. You know that. Right?"

 _Oh, God. What is his problem? Did all that_ real _beer put his brain out of order?!_

"Yes," I started, uttering every word slowly and carefully. "I love her. Because she is my little sister."

But he still stared at me in that strange way.

"Did the same woman bring you to this world?"

"Well, no," I had to admit. "But -"

"Did the same man father you?"

"No, but -"

"Then she is _not_ your sister."

I sighed and rubbed my eyes.

"Listen up." I raised my voice. "She's -"

"No, _you_ listen up," he interrupted even louder. "You couldn't tell her goodbye, too scared you wouldn't see her again. And she was the first person you called when you got here. How many times have you called Karolina?"

"Ekaterina."

"Whatever. I bet it's zero."

 _He's right,_ I realized.

"It's _Eva's_ portrait you carry everywhere. It's _Eva_ you keep talking about. It's _Eva_ you thought of when you were about to die. So don't give me that Emmelina bullshit. You've never even mentioned her before."

 _Man, this one's really stubborn._

"Sure." I nodded. "Still, Ekaterin-"

"You know what?" he broke in again. It was starting to get on my nerves. "How about you lend me the portrait for a minute?"

I frowned. I didn't want to.

"C'mon. You only like Yelena, anyway."

I didn't even try to correct him anymore, just handed him the drawing. He had a good look at it.

"Now. Sweet little Eva. Would you mind if I dated her?" He turned to look at me.

"She would never date someone like you," I responded dryly.

" _Imagine._ Imagine we're kissing."

"She'd never -"

" _Imagine._ "

I snorted, but couldn't deny that my pulse quickened a tad.

"Now imagine I'm touching her. I'm touching her hair. Her neck. Her…" He looked back at the portrait. "Woah, that's a nice pair of… _eyes_." He ran his finger over the silhouette of Eva's chest. I crossed my arms and turned away, conscious I was slowly growing breathless.

"Oh, is this making you feel uncomfortable?" he teased.

"I'm just not interested in you pervy fantasies," I retorted.

"Yeah, sure. Because you're so chaste and everything. Now, where were we?"

My temples started to throb.

"Oh, yeah. I was touching her boobs. Now we're in my room. Is she shy? She looks shy. I hope she is. Shy girls are real freaks in bed. I bet she'll be all like 'Ah! Ah! Do it to me like that! Aaah! Yes, Alfred, ye-'"

Alfred's impersonation of slutty Eva remained forever unfinished. Because, just like Gilbert, whose statement was unclear enough to suggest he defiled my little angel, he was too busy trying not to die as I choked him and banged his head against the ground again and again.

And since this time, there was no one to stop me, it was a particularly good thing Al was a superpower. He kicked me away, then gasped hungrily for air.

"SHE'S MINE!" I roared, tore the sheet out of his limp hand and walked away.

"Told ya," he rasped after me.

* * *

 **Moscow, 1989**

After almost three years of waiting around, Toris realized Eva had turned far too gloomy for a girl her age. Something needed to be done. And since he didn't know of any other way, he did it simply and frankly. He sat down next to her and showed interest by asking some careful questions. It went a lot like his first meeting with her brother, actually. They talked, drank and even (to his pleasant surprise) hugged. By the end of the day, they became friends.

The hugging part was a tad different, though - it was wanted. As the ancient clock struck nine, the lonely Slav took a deep breath and made her shy request. He agreed. So she leaned against him. He wrapped his arms around her. And they both drifted to their separate worlds.

* * *

 **USA, 1989**

The sun was already high - it must have been around noon. I walked a bit, then sat down on a bench, digesting the news.

 _I, Hynek Ku_ _č_ _era, am in love. With a woman named Eva._

My eyes ran across the horizon. _Where are you? How are you doing? Are you in good health?_ An eastern wind blew, drawing my eyelids down like a curtain. They say the best shows always happen behind it.

Indeed, suddenly, she was there. With her bambi eyes, high cheekbones and the most heavenly smell I'd ever known. She smiled sleepily.

"I-I thought you weren't allowed to travel," I managed. What a stupid thing to say, especially considering there were many other, much more important ones going through my head. And heart.

"I can still _dream_ ," she whispered mischievously.

"Eva, I've got something to tell you. I -"

She sealed my mouth with her index finger.

"We don't have much time. Hold me like this." She leaned against me and wrapped my arms around her. I said nothing more, too afraid to break that beautiful reverie. And more than happy to oblige.

 _Eva._

 _My strength. My joy. My partner in this one big love crime._

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 40-_


	41. Chapter 41

_(A/N: From now on, everything is happening within 1989.)_

* * *

 **USA**

Somebody's leg poked me.

"Dude, you can't nap anywhere you like."

I covered my eyes, trying to get the sunlight and his face out of my sight.

"Really. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Local male police officers will rape you."

"WHAT?!" I screamed and sprang up. Alfred started to laugh his head off.

"You believed me?!"

"I dunno." I sat down on the bench again, head in my hands. "Some of your laws are quite peculiar."

"Anyway." He took place next to me. "About what you told me earlier. We still have five states to see -"

"Five more?!" I yelped. "Weren't there forty-five?"

"Dude." Al rolled his eyes. "You've spent three years in a car with me and _still_ don't know there are fifty states at my place? It's, like, common knowledge."

I gave him the 'seriously?!' look.

"What is my capital?" I asked.

"..."

"Dude." I rolled my eyes. "You've spent -"

"Anyway!" He tried to nonchalantly change the subject. "I wanted to ask you to stay until my birthday. It will leave us the necessary time to see what there's left to see. And once we got to Florida, I'll throw a giant party in Miami Beach. Then, you'll go home. You're in?"

I had to admit that warm ocean and girls in bikini playing beach volley sounded a tad better than snow blizzards and that Russian motherfucker.

So, once more, we were on our way. A month later, out of the blue, I realized something. Although I'd always been trying to call Eva every two or three weeks, recently, I would always fall on Litva. Which was good - I had news. Except that… Except that he wasn't supposed to tell _her_ about _me_.

 _Ooops_.

* * *

 **Moscow**

It had been five months since Eva last heard from Hynek. And her imagination wasn't exactly helping. It was an enemy country, after all. _What if he's imprisoned? Tortured? What if… No!_ She forbade herself to even think about it. Just like she kept forbidding herself to let a single tear out of her eye.

One evening, when she expected it the least, he called. The thrill she felt while hearing his voice equaled the despair that took over her when he announced that he would be away for a few more months. He had been telling her that for a while. _He is really taking his career a bit too seriously,_ she thought. Still, she had no right to complain. _He_ was the one who risked his skin every day to provide them both with a better future.

She didn't even have the basic freedom to be sad. And, ironically, after all those years of holding back, _that_ finally made her cry.

Luckily, Toris was there to soothe her a little bit. Well, maybe more than just a little bit. To the Baltic's surprise, he managed to cradle her to sleep. But what impressed him even further was that, despite his long-term insomnia, he floated away to dreamland as well.

That night, he found out what Ivan had known for years - that one sleeps much more soundly next to somebody they can trust. Doubly so if it's a nice-smelling innocent girl.

Innocence. In a world full of sin, it was the chastity of their nights that appealed to Toris the most. So they shared a bed once again. Then again. And then a few dozen times.

(Just for the record: It was always _her_ bed. The queen size was big enough for two and somehow reminded Toris of the one that used to be in Ivan's room until he, for some reason, had it replaced by an older and much smaller model.)

He knew that people might talk, even though there was nothing to talk about. He knew that the Czech wouldn't approve, even though there was nothing to worry about. He knew that, even though he kept telling himself he was doing it for the girl, it had become his drug. But it was so nice not to spend nights just staring into the darkness… Plus, she was happy about the arrangement, too. So why argue with a good thing?

What bothered him more was how little she knew about the outside world. That was not good for a country. He decided to fix it.

* * *

 **Warsaw**

Alas, Toris was not a full-time babysitter/teacher and soon, he had to leave the house for three weeks straight.

"Slovakia needs to catch up on plenty of subjects. While I'm off, I need you to help her with this, this and this." He laid a few thick files on Feliks's desk. "Don't worry, she's a good student."

"Totally!" His Slavic friend grinned. "Like, insightful and bright and everything. One of a kind. Have I ever told you that she learnt Hungarian basically overnight?"

"About a hundred times."

"Isn't she amazing?"

"She's a good girl," Toris replied as he put his jacket back on.

"And _still_ has no boyfriend!"

The Lithuanian thought there was nothing noteworthy about the seventeen-year-old being single, so he bade the Pole goodbye and left.

* * *

With Toris gone, Eva's demons got back. And, with all the new knowledge she had acquired in the meantime, they seemed to have multiplied. That was why she seemed particularly downhearted to Feliks that day. He decided a little bit of work would distract her.

"Now, Liet told me I should help you with the capitals. Isn't he cool? He worries about your education."

"He's… okay," she whispered, eyes on the table.

"And, just so you know, he's still single. Anyway. Mongolia?"

No reply.

"Madagascar?"

Nothing.

"Turks and Caicos Islands? Come on, even _I_ know this one. It's the one that makes you go 'yikes'."

Feliks kept on trying, until, finally, she looked up.

"I've got one for you," she said. "Which one is mine?"

Silence.

"So? It's an easy one, isn't it? Prague or Bratislava? Or Moscow? Or something else altogether? It's been a while since I last heard from my boss. Or Czechia. I have no news, no ring on my finger, no home. Am I single? Or a wife? I could be a widow for all I know!" Eva yelped, then started to shake with sobs.

 _So that's what's been troubling you this whole time._ He didn't even know where to start. And Eva kept crying, openly and heartily just like the day he first met her. _And because of the same man,_ the Pole realized.

"Of course he's still alive, baby girl." Feliks wasn't very touchy, so he just stroked her hand a bit before passing her a handkerchief. "We all feel it when one of us perishes."

The Slovak knew that much, but she wept anyway.

"I got a chance to talk to Henryk before he went away. According to what I've heard from him, my boss and others, this is what's happening - Ivan wanted to separate you two, but couldn't. So he -"

"What do you mean, he couldn't? He forced us apart, even took our rings!"

The other Slav sighed.

"Marriage is not about jewels or having breakfast together or whatever sentimental nonsense. It's about the union. No one can tear you apart, whether a human or a country. Only you two can. And as long as both of you have the slightest bit of will to keep trying, you belong together."

Eva stared at him in wonder. She forgot to cry for a while.

"That's what happened between you and Toris?"

"Yes. We gave up on each other." Feliks paused while she blew her nose. "So, back in 1969, Ivan had you turned into a federation. He thought that if you achieve a certain degree of independence from Henryk, you will be more dependent on _him_. Your boss had figured it out and only made you look like a federation - all the power is still in the hands of your husband."

"So when the storm blows over, we'll just become a unitary state again," she concluded happily.

"Mmm, I wouldn't do that if I were you. An actual federation guarantees equality. A real win-win situation. It's just that there are so many things that can go wrong. Like one of the partners becoming predominant - that happens a lot. Then, they are no longer partners but a boss and their bi-, I mean, their _underling_."

"So Lithuania was your bi-, ehm, _underling_ ," she realized.

"That's right!"

"Didn't you just tell me he's cool?!"

"He is. He can be pretty badass sometimes. Have I ever told you about Grunwald?"

"About a hundred times."

"So you see he's not a total loser. He just made a mistake when we two got together. He didn't stand up for himself."

Eva pouted.

"It's not easy to stand up for yourself if the other person holds all the power."

"Baby girl, Henryk only had power because you gave it to him. Maybe you believe he was doing you a favor; maybe he believes it, too. I don't know. The fact remains that all alone, he would be only a tad less vulnerable than you are. So the next time you get a chance, strike the iron while it's hot. Or spend the rest of your days in an armor that doesn't fit you."

The girl was taken aback at how much clearer everything suddenly seemed.

"Thanks, Feliks. And… I'm sorry I cried."

"There's nothing wrong with being sad sometimes. You reminded me of that ages ago, I'm here to remind you now. But why did you think he was dead in the first place?"

Eva's relaxed features stiffened again. She told him all about the evil anticommunist place, intrigued that he didn't seem half as worried as herself. Much to her indignation, he actually started to laugh.

"You got it all wrong! USA is a paradise. Why do you think we can't travel? Because Ivan thinks we'll all stay there! And he's right!"

"But…"

"America doesn't hate us for our origins, food or language, not even for our political regime. He hates us because we're with the Soviet Union. If you move to his place - and that's the difficult part - all it takes is to switch sides and you'll live happily ever after."

The brunette didn't quite know what to do with that new information. She thanked him again, then stood up to leave.

"Oh, baby girl, before you go, can this conversation be our little secret? If Liet finds out I _do_ have some basic human lucidity after all, our friendship will never be the same."

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 41-_


	42. Chapter 42

When Toris got back to Moscow, he noticed Eva had grown distant and oddly melancholic, staring blankly out of the window most of the time. He asked her about it.

"It's been twenty years since I got here," the girl explained. The Baltic understood. He wanted to tell her that the first twenty years were the hardest, but that would have been a big fat lie and he was only good with the little white ones.

"I see. We all want to go home. I miss my place, too," he confessed and leaned against the window as well. She turned to look at him.

"Tell me about your place. What is it you miss the most?"

"I don't know." Toris shrugged. "It's so hard to pinpoint one thing. I miss walking through the those streets. Hearing the sound of my language everywhere. Eating in my favourite restaurant. The feeling of sea washing over my feet… Everything." He smiled bittersweetly.

"A sea?"

"The Baltic sea. It's not warm and turquoise like most seas you must have seen, but I love it."

"I've never seen a sea before." Eva's friend seemed surprised by the revelation. "Brother usually did all the travelling," she added.

"Oh." He nodded, then went on contemplating the outside world. "So what do _you_ miss the most about _your_ place?"

Eva said nothing, just sniffed. Toris swiftly turned to look at her and instantly chided himself. _How stupid of me to have asked her that. We both know the answer. And now she's about to cry!_

"You know what?" he rushed out. "I have a meeting to attend in Vilnius next month. How about you come with me? Once I'm done, we can go a little bit off the way and visit the seaside. There's a nice resort called Palanga not that far away. It'll be too cold to have a swim, but you should at least see it." To his infinite relief, she smiled again.

"I'd absolutely love that!"

* * *

"Sure you don't mind?"

"Of course not. The later we get back to Moscow, the better."

Toris's meeting went smoothly, so already in the middle of the afternoon, Eva was standing at the parking lot, marveling at that blue infinity. The weather was mild and the vacation spirit could be felt all around. So much so the Europeans even stopped to get an ice-cream on their way to the beach.

"Vanilla, I presume?" he asked as they looked for his favorite parlor.

"Why?"

"Err." The brunet look down on his feet. "It's just that you strike me as the kind of person that likes vanilla-flavored stuff," he improvised.

"I used to be nuts about vanilla fifty years or so ago, but, to be honest with you, now I prefer cinnamon."

"I'll keep that in mind, then."

They sat down on the soft sand to enjoy their sweet break.

"Anyway. What is _your_ favorite flavor?" she asked, studying his chocolate-vanilla mix. _I hope he'll say chocolate._

"Chocolate, of course," he replied. "Although I like other flavors, too."

"I was actually hesitating between cinnamon and chocolate."

"You could have had both. We can do that on the way back, if you want."

"No, I'm not sure whether it would work. They are both too strong as flavors. You made a good choice, mixing your chocolate with vanilla. I basically don't have anything against vanilla, but, after a while, it gets boring! It misses something! I've tried that stracciatella thing, but it is just weird. There's not enough chocolate in it. And how can you possibly -" Eva stopped mid-sentence and blushed as she noticed how widely Toris was grinning.

"I'm sorry. I'm babbling nonsense again," she moaned.

"Don't apologize!" he said affectionately. "On the contrary. I'm having a really nice time here with you, Eva."

"For real?!"

"Yes. It's so pleasant to talk about ice-cream once in a while; not just censorship, economy issues, life threats…" He hugged his knees, down in the dumps again.

"Prosecution, torture…" Eva did the same. "Death sentences," she whispered, then forced her teeth into the lower lip.

 _Toris, you moron, you shouldn't have said that,_ he panicked. _Do! Something! Now!_

"Or coffee-flavored ice-cream!" he exclaimed. The Slav stared at him with wide eyes.

"What?!" She burst out laughing.

"Coffee-flavored ice-cream!" Toris repeated, adamant. "Who can possibly like that?!"

"You're right. It's awful."

"Just awful?! It's the worst thing in this whole wide world! I will _never_ be able to live with someone who likes coffee-flavored ice-cream!"

 _Natalia likes it,_ Eva remembered. It made her strangely happy.

* * *

Even though they were used to the cold, swimming was out of question. So they just walked through the frigid water and collected shells. Eva was exhilarated by those unusual little gifts the sea gave her.

"...Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen." Back at the beach, Toris counted them, arranging them into four almost equal rows. "I'll go get you one more. Twenty lovely shells for twenty years of being a brave girl in the white kingdom." He squeezed her hand.

"Might as well grab two. New year is almost here," the girl said bitterly.

"If one year from now, you are still here, we'll go to the seaside again."

"Okay. Just beware of the water. The tide seems rather high!"

"Please, I'm the spirit of this place!" he shouted back. "I recognize when -"

Surely Toris would have recognized, if only he had been paying attention. But he hadn't. The rising sea washed over him, drenching him from hips to toes in the cool, salty water. Eva laughed out loud for the second time that day. The muscles around her mouth were now pleasantly sore.

"Soon, I'll be freezing! That's not funny!" the Lithuanian gasped.

"It is!"

"I think I'll be keeping the shells after all!" he teased.

"No!" The girl finally found it in herself to stop giggling. "Just put some dry clothes on, it's as simple as that!"

"Except that these are my only clothes," Toris muttered, pointing at the wet fabric, by then covered in sand as well.

"There is another pair of trousers and underwear in the car. You can dry yourself with my spare dress."

"You… packed for me?" the Baltic managed in wonder.

"Sure. I've always packed for brother. Fate is a jerk sometimes, better be ready." She shrugged.

"Wow." Toris hadn't felt that moved in a long time. He wasn't used to others doing things for him; it had mostly been the other way around.

The look on his face made that strange happiness take over her once more.

* * *

"Say, do you mind replacing me for a bit?" he asked on the way back. "I'm getting cramps."

Eva blushed.

"I… I'm sorry. I'm afraid I can't drive," she confessed.

"I see. You've never wanted to learn?"

"I have. I've even had a few lessons with brother. Then, he replaced his old car with a brand new Škoda and ever since, he didn't want me behind the steering wheel. I didn't really insist. Cars scare me, it's intimidating to operate something so powerful."

The feeling of power was what Toris actually liked the most about driving a car. He always felt like he was wearing an armor - he missed those times. He told her so. She admitted she'd never thought of it that way.

A bit later, he noticed an approaching gas station and decided to take the opportunity to have a break. As he was getting them some of his favourite snacks, he caught Eva peeking at lipsticks.

"Pick one."

"No, thanks, I'm good," she replied, but never took her eyes off them.

"Come on. They are good prize."

Eva hesitated, then took two of them off the shelf.

"I'm actually trying to decide between these two. What do you think?"

Toris looked at her selection and quickly came to a conclusion that to him, they were identical.

"Not at all!" She raised her hands in a faked distress. "This one is discreet, something for a good a girl that does not stand out in a crowd. Works for pretty much any occasion. The other one is a more daring shade. For a more daring girl - self-confident and venturesome."

"Then take both," Toris replied simply. He gave the shop assistant an eloquent look and discreetly slid a bill to the other side of the counter.

"Today is buy one, get one free," the elderly lady told Eva.

"See?" He turned back to the still hesitating girl. "It's your destiny to have both."

* * *

Eva concluded that Toris was a friend and friends never judge, so she tried on the flashier lipstick.

"For someone who never wears makeup you're doing it like a pro." The young man marveled at her precise movements. "Did Hungary teach you?"

"No. Poland did."

 _Of course._

"Anyways. How do I look?"

"Lovely." He smiled. "And how do you feel?"

"Confident," she had to admit.

"Confident enough to put on an armor?"

"You sure you don't mind?"

"Of course not. As I said, the later we get to Moscow, the better."

* * *

Eva smiled shyly. _Eyes on the road, hands on the steering wheel, feet on the pedals. Always concentrated, always ready,_ she kept on repeating his words to herself. From then on, every time she drove, they would always be there, echoing through her head.

He was right. It wasn't a bad feeling.

"See? You're doing wonderful!"

So much of that strange happiness in one day she could cry.

* * *

When they finally got back, Eva drew her friend into a big warm hug. He stroked her hair a bit.

"You're a wonderful young lady. One day, you will meet a special someone and he'll make you very happy."

Eva left for her bedroom and slipped under the blanket, wishing she could just spend the rest of her days with someone like Toris.

 _He_ made her happy.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 42-_


	43. Chapter 43

**USA**

Al booked us a private beach. Just the two of us and plenty of hot girls. We drank a lot, did plenty of crazy shit (I would never have thought of such a use for coconut milk) and there were some totally mind-blowing fireworks! Best. Party. Ever!

As I was lying on the beach next morning, I suddenly became conscious that two days from now, I would be in Moscow again. Yes. I would walk up to that monster's house and…

And what?!

I couldn't just take Eva and leave. What about our foreign relations? Planned economy? And political life? We both depended on that asshole more than I was willing to admit. We would need to start over, recreate what we had before from scratch. I didn't really know how to do that.

"Ah, don't worry!" Alfred beamed when I explained my predicament. "I know just the guy you need."

I frowned at the business card he gave me.

"I'm not sure about this. He's let me down before."

"Oh, that won't happen again." He laughed. "Artie just recently realized that he's no longer an omnipotent empire. It's in his best interest to create some solid diplomatic relations with the rest of Europe."

Wonderful! So all I needed to do now was call Moscow and tell them I would be off for a few more months _._

* * *

 **Moscow**

"Please tell me this is a joke," the Lithuanian groaned.

"C'mon man, just a few more months."

"That's what you've been saying every few months! For _three years_!" He looked around the hallway, then lowered his voice to a more discreet level. "What about your sister?!"

"Just… buy her some vanilla ice-cream. I'll pay you back." His friend's nonchalant tone angered Toris even further.

"She doesn't even like vanilla! She likes chocolate and cinnamon!"

 _And she loves sea! And shells! And she's got two lipsticks! And she's an amazing driver! Did you know that? Did you?!_

"Don't be a smartass. I'm doing what I can to get back as soon as possible. If you don't believe me, that's too bad. I've got better things to do than stay on the line trying to convince you."

" _ME_?" the Baltic shouted. "What do _I_ care?! Convince _HER_!" With that, he hung up so violently the coffee table holding the phone cracked.

* * *

The conversation left a bitter taste in my mouth. _Whatever. I'll just call again and talk directly to Eva. She'll understand._

The next day, I went to a local travel agency to change my ticket from Moscow to London, get a haircut and spend my last dollars. I was wondering about Ramona - I'd ran into her in every single state, but not in this one. _Well, maybe it's better this way,_ I concluded. _At least I won't need to explain that we won't be seeing each other anymore._

But when I entered the first hairdresser's salon I could find, all of a sudden, there she was. Wearing a loose chignon, a simple summer dress and a smile. Oh, that smile. I had to return it.

She closed the shop. I helped her drop all the blinds.

Before she drifted off in my arms, I asked her whether I could make a phone call.

* * *

 **Moscow**

"Princess, I'm not going to sugar-coat it. I'm afraid my return will be further delayed."

Deep down, Eva expected that. But it didn't prevent her world from standing still for a while.

"Your girlfriend again?" a female voice on the other side chuckled.

"My _sister_. I've already told you," the Czech replied casually.

What the Czech didn't know was that by then, Eva had not only gone through the only English textbook in Ivan's manor; she'd also swallowed everything the Library of Moscow provided.

And that her patience had just faded.

"I AM HIS WIFE, BITCH!" she shouted in perfect English, then hung up so fiercely the coffee table shattered to pieces.

* * *

Eva didn't cry. It wasn't worth it. Instead, she just went on with her chores.

 _He emigrated._

 _He left me here._

 _But you know what, unknown woman? Just keep him. He's all yours now. Good luck._

* * *

 **USA**

I had to admit I was scared. Al had told me she could get pretty jealous and we were locked in a place full of pointy objects. I actually prayed (I'm an atheist). Thankfully, in the end, she just laughed.

"What a woman. No wonder you can't wait to get back to her. Do you have a picture to show me?"

Although relieved, I still couldn't speak. Just like a mother looking down on a mischievous child, she crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, still laughing.

"Silly Enrique. I have a second job at the airport - I know you're flying off tonight. And the second I laid my eyes on you I was certain you wouldn't be staying. It's difficult to be far from one's place. I know the struggle."

We both got dressed again. Ramona combed her hair, then cut mine. As sweet, nurturing and benevolent as always.

"Then why are you still here?" I finally asked. "You've got amazing history. A strong culture. Respectable values. And so many qualities. Why stay here and do all those shitty jobs?"

She shrugged. There was something strangely bittersweet about that gesture.

"Because I love him. And even though he keeps putting all that steel, stone and barbed wire between us, he would be lost without me. This place is built on immigrants. We're the oxygen running through his veins. One day, he'll understand," she sighed. "But enough of this gloominess. To be honest, I like it here in Miami. My place is just around the corner and I was promised a better job, too. Now show me your _querida_."

I went through my clothes until I found the portrait.

"She looks calm and loving. Don't get too comfy, though. That's the silk that hides steel. I think you've just found that out," she teased. I decided to explain our whole story to her.

"See? She's my other half. My soulmate. But after all this… She won't believe me anymore," I whispered, helpless. "I doubt she even cares."

"I'm pretty sure she does," the Mexican reassured me. "Otherwise, she wouldn't have gone so angry. You know what? There's a proverb we like to say at my place: _Obras son amores, que no buenas razones._ It means that works, and not words, are the proofs of love. If your love is real, act like it. Give her real freedom and a real home. Seal a real marriage with a real ring. And, most importantly, be forgiving, caring and faithful - a real husband."

It was getting late. I thanked her and kissed her one last time. She hugged me.

"I'll sneak a bottle of my best tequila into your luggage," she breathed in my ear. "Just in case it doesn't work out."

* * *

That night at the airport, Alfred hugged me, too.

"I'm glad I didn't kill you back then."

"Not as glad as I am."

We slid something in each other's pocket, then parted ways.

* * *

As soon as I was comfortably seated in the aircraft, I checked my pocket. There was an envelope. I tore it open and extracted a letter. It was very brief.

'I've had this made for you. So you can come back anytime you like,' the familiar handwriting said.

I reached inside the envelope again and pulled out a rectangular object. It was a card. A green one. With my name and picture. And no expiry date.

* * *

The American reached into his pocket. There was an envelope. He tore it open and retrieved a letter. It was very brief.

'Keep it. I'm going to get the original anyway.'

He looked inside the envelope again and grabbed another sheet of paper. It was the familiar portrait.

 _Hope it works out for you, bro._

 _But if it doesn't,_ he thought as he ran his finger over the girl's curves, _let me know. I'd really love to meet this exceptional woman._

 _...And fuck her._

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 43-_


	44. Chapter 44

**Budapest**

"Please, Erzi. Make a little effort."

"No! Definitely not!"

"Her life's so full of shit."

"So is ours."

"You don't get it. She, like, _cried_ in front of me the other day!"

"Ah. Shit indeed."

"See? She needs friends now more than ever. I'm not asking for miracles. Just invite her over for tea or something."

"And why is it up to _me_ to make an effort again?"

"Because you're the bigger person."

* * *

Hungary made a mental note of kicking Poland really hard for pushing her into this. The girl was now sitting in her kitchen with her arms and legs crossed, her favorite sulking position. Bribing her with a cake didn't seem to work anymore.

 _Come on, Erzi, be the bigger person._

"That's a lovely dress."

"Thanks."

"Where did you buy it?"

"In a shop."

"So, what are you up to these days?"

"Not much."

Hungary frowned. She was getting fed up with doing all the work herself.

"Aren't you going to return my last question?" she asked, trying to keep her tone emotion-free. Unsuccessfully.

"Not really." The Slovak shrugged. "I bet it's the usual."

Erzi could feel the last bits of her patience fading.

"Which is...?"

"Eating, drinking and trying to work out how to mess with some other, smaller country that's just trying to be self-sufficient and live peacefully."

 _You little…!_ Hungary took a deep breath. It took all she had not to slap the younger girl.

"Gossiping and ranting is all you can do anyway," she retorted. "Some things just don't change."

"You think so?" Eva stood up. "Maybe you're just too full of yourself to realize the glory of Vienna was paid with my and Czechia's sweat and blood."

"Ungrateful brat!" The Hungarian stood up as well. "You should be honored we even let losers like you into the Empire!"

Eva found her "getting physical" with Estonia a truly liberating experience. She realized that while diplomacy helped to maintain stability in the long run, solving things with violence had a much more immediate effect. And brought much more fun.

"Do you wanna know what I think of the Empire? Do you?!" She walked over to some glassware bearing the Austrian-Hungarian coat of arms and, with one smooth movement, she swept it off the shelf. She closed her eyes in pure bliss as the priceless antiquity shattered on the floor.

"You shouldn't even exist!" the older woman barked, took hold of a pot full of paprika and threw it in Slo's face. Blinded, the latter panicked for a while, but soon enough, she stood firm again.

"We took you in! Gave you a job, a roof over your head! Fed you and clothed you!"

"You fed me with _my_ wheat! Clothed me with _my_ linen!" Eva yelled back as she was throwing Hun's favorite set of shooter glasses in her direction. Erzi grabbed a tray to protect herself from the blows, while, with the other hand, throwing china at her visitor.

The kitchen turned into a mayhem. Hungary was sure a legendary soldier, but with centuries of trying not to die, Slo had learnt a thing or two as well.

"You were nothing but a peasant girl when you came to this house!"

The two women were now fencing with some kitchen utensils.

"At least I know how to use a spatula properly!"

"Oh, how would that be?" Erzi mocked.

"Like this!" her former subordinate barked and poked her in the eye with the mentioned item. Hungary covered her face. Eva didn't lose any time and ran to the other side of the kitchen, grabbed a frypan and ran back to finish her opponent off.

The other country saw it coming, snatched an open bottle of _palinka_ and threw the liquid on the floor. Slo slipped and lost her balance. For a while, the two women wrestled on the floor, calling each other names and pulling on each other's hair, covered all over in sweat, alcohol and paprika.

* * *

 **Meanwhile in Moscow**

"I know we should probably intervene, but watching them makes me warm and tingly inside," Latvia confessed as he moved away from the spyglass.

"That's okay." Eduard patted his back. "You're just turning into a man."

The third Baltic peeked into the room.

"Anyone fancy a cup of tea?"

* * *

 **Budapest Again**

"We made you a lady!" Hungary panted as she pinned Slovakia to the ground.

"Yeah. So you can force me to marry! While I was still a kid!" The Slav tossed and turned, trying to break free again.

"Strangely it didn't bother you when you married that good-for-nothing just a few years later!"

The remark pissed Eva off even further, if possible.

"A good-for-nothing! Well, you _did_ find some use for him after all! ON OUR WEDDING NIGHT!"

Erzi blinked. Slo was more than surprised when, suddenly, the older woman let go off her and moved away.

"Oh. Did he… tell you?" she asked cautiously.

"No need!" Eva snapped. "He reeked of you all over!"

"It… It was an accident," Hungary breathed.

"How on Earth can you accidentally fuck someone?!" The Slovak shook her hands in frustration.

For a split second, Erzsébet felt like chiding the girl for her language, but quickly moved from form to contents. She did have a point.

"You're right," she admitted, lowering her eyes to the ground.

A few seconds of silence followed.

"You're right. It's all my fault."

Eva, who had calmed down in the meantime, shook her head.

"i don't think so. I doubt you forced him." With that, she stood up to leave.

"Wait!" Hungary grabbed her sleeve. "It's not that easy. He just wanted to help me and I pressured him to drink. Anyway, so that you know, through the whole evening, he wouldn't stop talking about you. You mean a lot to him, can't you see?! And I, I just..." Erzi sighed and turned away, her lip quivering slightly. "I just wished someone looked at me the way he looked at you."

"And which way is that?"

"Like... at a princess."

The smaller country sighed as well.

"Austria always looked at you like that. You were just too busy fighting for independence to see it."

* * *

 **Moscow**

"What kind of tea is this?!" Ed complained.

"It tastes weird," Raivis confirmed.

Lithuania shrugged.

"I don't know. I suggest we let it infuse a bit longer and see what happens."

* * *

 **Budapest**

"R-really?!" Erzi blinked. "How can you tell?"

"He would always have you on his mind. Every time we made _Sachertorte_ together, he would say 'I hope Hungary will like it'. Occasionally, he would bring me along for a stroll through Vienna. We would window-shop and he wouldn't stop asking me 'Do you think Hungary would like this? Or that?'. Once, he wrote you a symphony, then threw it away, because he was afraid you wouldn't like it. And if that's not enough… Do you remember the time you were arguing because he, the way you put it, 'wasn't making you feel like a woman' often enough?"

Hungary's eyes widened, her ears turning dark red.

"You heard that?!"

" _Everybody_ heard that. Anyway, later that day, he confused me with you, touched my bottom and whispered something lewd in my ear."

"No way!" the Hungarian half-laughed. Then, her face turned serious again.

"Hold on, how could he possibly confuse us?!"

"I was fifteen back then. Already about your height. And… err…" Now it was Eva's white skin that flushed. "I was wearing your clothes," she admitted.

Erzi frowned.

"Why would you wear my clothes?!"

"Because I admired you!" Eva snapped out of the blue. "Looked up to you! You were my role model. A cool big sister." She couldn't suppress the urge to hide her face. The unexpected confession made her feel as fragile as a naked baby.

"Oh," Hungary breathed.

* * *

 **Moscow**

Raivis was on cloud nine, marveling at his reflection in the teaspoon. The Lithuanian, stretched out on the couch, was considering retreating to his room and reading the magazine hidden under his mattress again. And Estonia paced back and forth through the room as if looking for the higher truth.

"We should really do something, guys. Something so others will finally take us seriously," he said.

"Let's start our own space program!" Latvia yelped in his currently breaking voice.

"I don't think so." The blond grimaced. "I already see as many stars on daily basis as I can possibly take."

"Maybe we could organize a giant chess tournament," Toris suggested. "Although we would first need to invest a bit. Poland made himself a necklace out of my pawns," he moaned, reaching into his pocket to extract the unconventional jewel.

The Estonian stared at him with wide eyes.

"That's it!" he shouted. "We'll make a chain! We'll make a fucking human chain!"

The other two exchanged looks.

"The three of us?" Latvia asked.

"No! That wouldn't be remarkable, just gay. We should do it as nations!"

Lithuania's face lit up.

"That's crazy enough to work! I'll bring my people and you guys bring yours and -"

"Yay! Let's do this!" Latvia piped up, enthusiastic.

"Then it's on!"

This stoners' party later became known as Baltic Chain of Freedom.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 44-_


	45. Chapter 45

**Still in Budapest**

"Well, I was very fond of you, too," Hungary confessed. "Until you left me."

"Seriously?" Eva pouted. "First, you almost erased me from the Earth. And then, you tried to ship me off. To someone I'd never even met."

"I know I've been harsh... And possessive, too. I can understand your position. But regarding the marriage, you're wrong to hold it against me. Vash might be somewhat peculiar, but he would certainly take good care of you. Just look at him and Lily. You would never be exposed to the atrocities of war, never miss anything for the rest of your life."

"But I'd never even met the guy! How could you press someone onto me like that?!" The sudden memories coming back made Eva feel just as angry and betrayed as she did the day she got the news.

"I'd barely ever talked to Roderich before the engagement, either. But we learnt to know each other and even fell in love," Erzsébet explained. "Although… Yes. You were really young back then, I have to give you that. I see how it all could have upset you. My ex-husband is kind of old-fashioned, as you might have noticed. Candidates being manifold and impatient, waiting any longer was out of question to him. So I pleaded with him to pick the least of all evils - the Swiss."

Slo wondered who the other bachelors must have been if a stingy hermit was considered the best choice. Hungary, probably reading her mind, couldn't help adding:

"All the odds were in favor of Francis Bonnefoy, you know."

"Ewww." Eva shuddered. She'd never met Mr. France before, and, following the legends she'd heard about him, she hoped she never would.

"Well, thank you, I guess," the Slovak mumbled, looking aside.

Erzi expected more, much more, but given the context and the other country's personality, this equaled anyone else covering her with flowers and kisses.

"You're welcome, sweetheart. And you can call me Erzi, if you like." She smiled. Eva half-smiled back.

"I'm glad we got to talk."

"So am I. I'll try to patch things up with Roderich. I hope the same will happen between you and your… whatever he is to you."

"I thought you hated him."

"Hate's maybe too strong a word. All in all, he's a good man and those are hard to find."

The Slovak shrugged, unconvinced, so Erzi went on.

"You know, back when you were just a kid, I made my living as a bounty hunter. I fought him over you; he won. He could have raped me, killed me or both. Instead, he let me go with a warning."

In the meantime, intrigued Slo leaned in not to miss a word.

"Concerning the marriage, he didn't like the idea, either. He tried to talk us out of it; to no avail. A month later, Europe was in war. I later asked Serbia what had got into him to freak out like that. I mean, he's always been rather hot-tempered, but back then, he was basically poking a hungry bear. Even though I couldn't get a name out of him, he did admit having been "helped". And I don't have any particular proof for this one, but don't you think it was most unusual for such an intelligent and pragmatic country as Germany - also known for forcing and keeping you two apart - to go and mess with General Winter?!"

"Oh," Eva breathed. It seemed to be the word of the day. "So the spring of 1968…"

"S'pose." Hungary shrugged. "It's called _Prague_ Spring, after all."

A new feeling started warm up her heart, but Eva still refused to give in.

"The fact remains that he left me here. And I don't know whether he'll come back."

"I don't know that, either," the Hungarian had to admit. "But if he does, please give him one last chance."

Erzi could say from the look on her face that Eva's feelings were mixed. Despite that, a few seconds later, the smaller nation gave her a slight nod.

"I'll do what I can."

They teamed up to clean the mess, then enjoyed the cake and a cup of chamomile.

"If you don't mind me asking." Erzsébet looked at Eva. "I was wondering… What was your reaction exactly when Austria made a move?"

The girl shifted nervously on her chair, eyes downcast.

"Well, you see… At that very moment, I was just tenderizing some meat for schnitzels, so…" She paused.

"No way!" Hungary exclaimed. "You gave him a whack!" She started to laugh so hard a tear rolled down her cheek. Eva pretended to stir her tea, but couldn't fight her own smile from coming.

"So that's why he was in so much pain for the whole week. I _knew_ there was no such thing as drunk literary café fights!"

* * *

The scissors were old and rusty (then again, what in the Eastern Bloc wasn't?!), but with some correctly applied brute force, they did the trick. The almost crunchy _snip's_ were the most beautiful sound she'd heard in a while, each of them a thrilling step towards her freedom.

A curl appeared in the corner of her eye.

"Do you need some help with that barbed wire, Miss Héderváry?"

"Wouldn't want you ruining your fancy clothes, Mr. Edelstein," Erzi panted, relentless in her task. Despite her words, a minute later, there was another pair of hands with another pair of scissors joining in.

"It's good to see you again," the voice belonging to the hands confessed. Only then did she look up. He was a tad sweaty with his hair mussed, just like that day when… how did it all start? Someone at the World Conference called her "nothing more than Austria's maid" and she felt so miserable and humiliated that he took her away for a tour through the most beautiful cities of Europe, all the while acting like her personal butler, catering to every single one of her needs. When they were at Feliciano's place, it started to rain and she lost her shoe, so he carried her through the rainfall all the way back to the hotel, drew them both a hot bath and then they…

She shook her head so the bangs would conceal her blush.

What Erzi didn't know was that the day at the World Conference, she was not called his maid rather than something much, much worse. It was only thanks to the reactivity of her interpreter that the true message never got to her. Roderich understood, though. The whole situation resulted not only in their unexpected romantic escapade, but also in her interpreter getting a raise and the disrespectful person being beaten up unconscious (again, Erzi didn't know).

"Isn't the weather just splendid today?"

But Hungary wasn't one to bother with all that chit-chat nonsense.

"Roderich, are you still angry with me?" she asked.

"I've never been angry with you, Erzsébet." He stepped closer, took a gentle hold of her hand and planted a kiss on it.

And, suddenly, they were under that warm, fragrant Venetian rain again. Just the two of them.

"Heeeey, less blah-blah, more action, kids!" The brunette facepalmed. Roderich looked over her shoulder to see a familiar German sitting next to a shabby tent, obviously waiting for a show to enjoy.

"How? And why?" He turned to Erzi.

"He found out things were better here, so he came for a quick vacation. And now he just wouldn't leave," she moaned. "I guess he's waiting for me to lay down my guard so he can get back to his brother. As if I could do everything I want…"

"The summer's gone. In a month or two, he'll be freezing," he remarked. Erzi just shrugged, helpless. But Roderich had an idea.

"Erzsébet, do you think you can allow me one afternoon? I'd like to suggest a picnic."

"Seriously?! With him watching?" She pointed to her unwanted visitor.

"You see," the Austrian started in a low voice. "We can't really have a picnic with our borders closed, now, can we?"

* * *

 _(A/N: Exactly as explained, the regime in Hungary was less oppressive than in the rest of Soviets satellites, which attracted lots of Eastern Germans hoping to eventually join their family in FRG. On 19th August 1989, Hungarian dissidents and Austrian politicians had agreed that they would symbolically open the border for a few hours so that they could have a picnic together. And turn a blind eye at all those Gilberts sheepishly sneaking out. Faith in humanity restored.)_

* * *

"I missed your cuisine so much."

"Well, your _Strudel_ is not bad, either."

"Heeeey Roddy, you old fart, be a bit more awesome and kiss her already! Or _I_ will!"

"Why is he still here?!"

"My question exactly. Let's just leave the borders open. Maybe he'll get it eventually."

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 45-_


	46. Chapter 46

**London**

When I finally arrived at Heathrow, I was rather impressed that Lord Eyebrows himself was waiting there for me. We shook hands. Next, he reached into his suitcase and handed me what looked like a few days of paperwork.

"I'll need you to fill in all these for me first. You know, to explain your motivations, your past and plans for future, provide some statistics, that kind of thing."

With a forced smile, I took the file.

" _Bonjour, Messieurs._ "

 _Oh, no. Not him. Anything, but not_ him _!_

" _Bienvenue à Londres, mon ami!_ " he beamed. "It's a cold and ugly place, but luckily I'm around to bring in some French _savoir-vivre_! With _Angleterre_ here, we'll be providing the necessary support for your integration among the modern European countries. What's more _,_ a little birdie told me you'd soon be getting married." He winked and, seemingly out of nowhere, produced a jewel box with two really neat rings.

"Compliments of my best _artisan joaillier_. Finest 24-karat gold, the design a perfect harmony of classics and originality to unite you and your _dulcinée_ in the beautiful adventure of _amour_."

" _Merci._ " I took the rings. And then, before I could realize, my fist shot up on its own and hit the Frenchie square in the face. He collapsed on the ground, unconscious.

And I simply stood there, unable to believe how badly I'd just messed up. _This was my unique chance for a better future and I've totally blown it! What an idiot!_

I turned to look sheepishly at Eyebrows.

"Sorry, I… I just… when I see his face, I just… And worse, when he starts talking, -" I moaned helplessly. England stopped me.

"Say no more. I know exactly what you mean."

"You do?" I asked, incredulous.

"I like you, Henry." He was now all smiles. "You know what? Fuck the paperwork." He tore the file out of my hands and threw it into the nearest dustbin. "Now let's go get us a few pints. I'll tell you everything you need to know."

* * *

Translations (everything in French):

Bienvenu à Londres = welcome to London

Dulcinée = sweetheart (referring to a female)

Artisan joailler = (craftsman) jeweller

* * *

 **Moscow**

With Toris by her side, Eva slept like a newborn baby, dreaming that one day, she would meet someone like him.

And then, one night, Eva suddenly realized she had _already met_ someone like him.

Things changed. She now struggled to sleep next to him. She couldn't even bring herself to eat when he sat close to her, which was pretty much at every meal. Soon enough, neglecting the two essential needs of her body took its toll. One day, as they were filling the laundry basket with freshly washed clothes, her vision went dark and her legs too weak to carry her any longer. Luckily, her friend grabbed her just before she could collapse on the ground.

"I _knew_ this would happen!" he moaned in anguish. "You work too much, young lady! You really need to stop pushing yourself so hard! Now go get some rest." He took hold of her arm and, gently but resolutely, guided her to her room.

"Don't be silly, I'm perfectly fine!" Eva objected, fighting the grip with all the strength she could summon (honestly, not much). "Besides, I can't, I'm still not finished with the laundry."

But Toris didn't care and before she could realize, she was tucked in her bed.

"I'll take care of everything, just relax, have a nap and get some strength. Understood?" He disappeared for a while, then reappeared with a steaming teapot full of sugared tea and some vitamins. She didn't even try to argue with him anymore. It was so sweet just how stubborn he could get when it came to others' well being.

He left again. She waited until the back door slammed shut, then got out of the bed and peeked through the curtain. The look in her eyes immediately softened.

He was standing in the garden, taking care of the laundry, just like he had promised. He would also sweep the floors, do the dishes, polish the furniture. Hynek never did those things. He always said that was a girly job.

He seemed fully concentrated on the task even though it was a very repetitive, mechanical one. Grab a piece of clothing, shake it out, attach it. Repeat until the basket is empty.

She watched him for a while, contemplating the long, slim fingers taking a firm hold of the fabric again and again. It was so different from how he would hold _her_. He had always been respectful, careful not to touch an inappropriate place, especially not her naked skin. And he was gentle, too, ever so gentle. As if she was some kind of rare, fragile flower.

Hynek, too, handled her gently and carefully, yet it wasn't entirely the same thing. With him, it felt more like he was just holding back, waiting for something, she now realized. Well, he was a hunter and he had the personality that went with.

The Czech once told her that the most intimate contact two people can have is something very intense and pleasant. She took his word for it. Then, many, _many_ things happened that made her very sad. And confused. She realized that love and desire didn't go hand in hand as she always believed. In reality, those two had nothing in common. Nothing at all.

Sexuality, seduction, even romance were all about urges. And power. It was both genders' way to control each other. Honestly, what does love have to do with _that_?!

Eva had already come to terms with the fact that living in a couple was an ordeal. That she'd be expected to abandon her dreams, obey and, worst of all, spread her legs and hold still, however painful and humiliating it seemed to her. A sacrifice to make her man happy, thank him for taking care of her, to keep him by her side, in a safe distance from other women.

She decided she'd rather spend the rest of her days alone.

And then, she got to know _him_. Discovered his many faces and every single one of them made her heart flutter. She thought of his touch, so soft and comforting, of how good it was when she felt his warmth mixing with hers. And the way he smelled... It intrigued her beyond words. She had spent most of her life with Hynek, but when she tried to recollect his scent, she couldn't. He smelled of everything and nothing at the same time, he was like a breeze, forever fleeing her nostrils before she could inhale and learn to know it. Let alone love it.

So, that special night, exhausted Toris lied down next to her.

He fell asleep.

Pieces fell into place.

And Eva fell in love.

It weren't really the things that changed; _she_ did. She now loved someone, a special someone. Now, she would spend her nights hoping that, one day, he would feel the same way about her. And when it happened, she would let him closer than anyone else. Not because she would be expected to. Not because otherwise, he would leave (he wouldn't!). Because she wanted to. There would be no humiliation, no exposure, no sacrifice. Just his tender, caressing touch all over her body and soul.

Lovemaking. Lovemaking was the word.

* * *

Except for breakfast, the food at Arthur's place was awful. Well, at least I lost everything I'd put on in the US. The Englishman also spent some time with me in Prague, helping me rebuild our house. I bought everything newlyweds might need, even hand-carved us a new double bed. As soon as all was ready, I got in my car and started east.

Even though it was snowing, I drove as fast as I could. When I finally got there, it was almost midnight. I thought everybody would have gone to bed by then. That's why I was so surprised to notice the light in the living room was still on. I came closer to have a look and my heart almost jumped with pure joy. It was Eva, my beloved Eva, serene and more beautiful than ever. Her aura shone like a mystic flame, burning with something sweet and sincere.

I suddenly realized how horribly cold I'd been for the last few years. Was it any wonder? I'd left my sun here. But I would never leave her again. Never ever.

I mentally stroked her hair, her back, her cheeks. I watched her white hands, moving with such precision and grace, her whole being fully set on the needlework. Her face was a bit tired, but happy.

I didn't want to wait for a second longer. Having adjusted my hair and brushed off the dust and snow off my clothes, I was ready to run to the door, see the look of surprise and delight on her doll-like face, grab her and squeeze her, then take her hand and…

"She's not coming with you," a cold voice from behind me stated.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 46-_


	47. Chapter 47

"She's not coming with you," a cold voice from behind me stated. I turned around.

Ivan was lying stretched out on the ground, contemplating the starry sky. His hair, skin, even the clothes were so pale they were blending with the snow all around. For once, he didn't seem to be teasing me, mocking me or faking innocence; his tone was unnaturally matter-of-factly. And that got me worried even more - it couldn't have been a good omen. But I'd been through way too much to back down for a few words.

"Yes, she is. It's over. You can't force us to stay here anymore!" I barked and threw the bag full of notebooks, more or less crappy souvenirs and selfies of me and Al at his feet.

"That's right. I can't." He finally turned to look at me. The fatigue on Eva's face was nothing compared to _that_. The light in his eyes was almost gone. Every bone seemed to be showing. And had he always had so many wrinkles?!

I blinked, trying to concentrate again. _Not my fucking problem._

"I can't afford to keep all of you anymore. And I wouldn't mind getting rid of you first, you obnoxious little shit. Why are even here, anyway? That American asshole really can't be counted on," he said, probably trying to sound merciless, but once again, his heart was not in it. "So go ahead and talk to her. But I'm warning you, she won't go."

"How come?"

"She's in love."

That was the last thing I expected him to say. Despite myself, I stared at him for a while, open-mouthed. Then, my chest started to hurt like hell. Only when I was about to faint, I realized I'd actually forgotten to breathe. _No no no. Please. Not this again. Please please please please…_

"Not with me, moron." He snorted.

"Thank heavens," I gasped. The pain in my chest receded. To say that I was relieved would be one hell of an understatement.

"But… Who then?" I breathed, half to myself, half to him. He didn't reply, so I went on fixing him while, in my mind, going through all the possible names. None of them seemed probable. Then, I stopped at one. _No, no way. That's just ridiculous._ I shook my head, ready to discard the crazy idea, when, suddenly (and finally), the familiar sadistic grin spread across Ivan's face.

"You asked him to take care of her. Well, it looks like he's done quite a job." He smirked.

I gulped and peeked through the window once again. I didn't really wonder how he'd found out - it didn't seem to matter anymore. All that mattered revolved around the girl I was watching.

"Does he know?" I asked, eyes still on her.

"Not yet."

"Does he…" _Feel the same way?_ I wanted to inquire, but the words got stuck in my throat. It was alright, though, he'd always been somehow able to read my mind.

"Not yet."

 _What's that supposed to mean?_ I wondered. _But hey, whatever! It's still not too late!_

"I'm coming to get her," I said resolutely, starting towards the door.

"Are you deaf or just stupid? She won't go." Ivan laughed again. I was getting sick and tired of the way he was acting.

"How can you be so sure?" I snapped. "Eva is a clever girl. She knows what's best for her."

"I suppose she does," he purred, going through his coat for a while until he finally retrieved the desired item - a bottle of vodka. He took a swig, then gestured for me to have some, too. I shook my head, impatient.

"But women are not exactly reasonable creatures. You should know that better than anyone."

I looked at Eva again, then down on the ground. He was right. So terribly, painfully right.

"Now, you've missed a few episodes - let us catch up. You know, Toris and the whores are not the only ones who enjoy chess here. But my precious pawns hadn't been moving much recently, so I helped. I gave the knight a task and made sure he failed. Just as expected, he panicked and got totally wasted. She was the only one available to help him. What she's currently doing is sewing me a coat - originally meant for you - to replace the one he ruined. She's been on it for almost a year, but tonight, she sacrificed all those efforts to save him. Just a piece of clothing, you might think. Trust me, it's more complicated than that. She's a queen, after all. We both know how powerful a pawn they are. At last, she moved. She decided there was no point in saving anything for the man who had left her here, who would never come back again. Especially if there was someone else who needed her. Who had always been kind to her. Who had never betrayed her and most likely never would. Consciously or not, she moved away from her king. She chose him over you."

I said nothing, taking my time to let it all sink in. Trying to figure out what to think.

"Now a little sneak peek about what would follow," he went on. "Tomorrow morning, he'll thank her. She'll confess. He'll be taken aback at first. After that, he'll ask her whether she's sure about her feelings. As a reply, she'll kiss him. To his own astonishment, he'll realize he's kissing back. Instantly, he'll tear away. Say it's a bad idea, that he's not husband material. That he can't cater to her needs - he's just a slave here, after all. She'll reply she's a slave, too, but that can be helped. They can break away. Together. He'll sigh, shake his head. Tell her it's not that simple. She'll try to kiss him again, but he'll push her away. Apologize and leave. She'll head for her room and try not to cry. Then cry a lot. This is where you can come see her, reassure her, try to conquer her. But she won't let you, not now that she knows he loves her back. Anyway, her words will run through his mind for the whole afternoon. With every hour, he will grow stronger and more determined. And more in love. Neither will get down for dinner. He'll go see her. Propose. By midnight, they will have left the house, got married, consummated the marriage and fallen asleep."

Silence.

I snorted.

"That's a bunch of bullshit," I replied coldly. "That won't happen. That's not how any of this works. That is not the way it's supposed to end."

He faked a sigh.

"The thing is, you can't tell a lie and expect the facts to change along," he repeated the words I told him in the very beginning. But this was not the same.

"You're wrong," I insisted, more to convince myself rather than him. "You're forgetting he has a thing about your crazy sister."

He took another gulp.

"I've had him by my side for a very long time. Deep down, he realizes they are not meant for each other. And right now, she's out of the house. Too far to distract him from what he really wants in the long run."

He was right. I knew he was. I sat down next to him. He offered me vodka once again and this time, I accepted. After years on watery American beers, the stuff was just toxic, but it warmed me up.

"You see now? You let the knight too close for comfort. Now he's ready to kick you out of the chessboard."

Yes. That about summed it up.

"I thought he was... like me. Dust-faced... Black... Whatever," I muttered absent-mindedly.

And Ivan laughed again.

"No one's truly black nor white on the chessboard of the world. There are just plenty shades of grey."

"Everyone playing for themselves," I sighed.

"That's right. And now, whatever you decide to do next, it smells like check and mate for you, _tovarish_."

 _Yeah. You really got me, Litva, I have to give you that. No wonder they say that still water runs deep!_

What a pretentious little fucker. I was positive he planned it all along. Told her the right words at the right time. And now he had her exactly where he wanted.

I drank again, letting the vodka slide down and clean the mental wound that just opened inside of me. It burned, burned, burned, so much so that my mind had gone completely blank with the sensation.

And then, suddenly, I came up with something. There was still one more pawn I could use. One more move I could make.

"Can I make a phone call?" I turned to to the Russian. His eyebrows shot up. The look he gave me was a mix of amusement, surprise and… Yes, a bit of acknowledgement, too.

"You know what? Nobody wants you around. Nobody ever has. Yet you still exist. But that's fine with me - it's fun to watch," he said almost affectionately, then reached into his pocket to retrieve a key and handed it to me. "Go ahead. I suggest you take the back door."

I grinned. That was exactly what I was about to do. In more than one way.

* * *

- _END OF CHAPTER 47-_


	48. Chapter 48

"Natalia Arlovskaya speaking."

"Hey Belarus. It's me. Czechia."

"..."

"We met twenty years ago, or so. I wanted to kiss you. You kicked a hole in my shin. Then, I threatened to mangle your face. You bashed your knee against my junk."

"..."

"You called me 'fuckface'."

"Oh," she finally breathed, her tone tinged with a sudden memory coming back. "What do you want? Is anything wrong with brother?!" she rushed out worriedly.

"No, as a matter of fact…"

"Then WHY ON EARTH ARE YOU CALLING AT THIS UNGODLY HOUR?!" I removed my ear from the phone. "WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM? FUCKING IDIOT!"

"Natalia, do you still want me and Slovakia out of the house?"

"When did I allow you to call me by my human name, you bastard?!" I removed my ear again, in case she wanted to get louder to call me some other names, but she didn't. "And yes, with all my existence."

"Great. I'd like to suggest a deal."

* * *

I spent the rest of the night getting drunk with Ivan (though a more appropriate term would be just "drinking". Russians seems to be already born drunk.) in the lodge where he used to torture me. It all seemed so far away now. And he had turned into such a nasty wreck that all I could feel for him was pity. We drifted off in the bed where I used to stare into the night and fantasize about kicking him continuously in the balls for months straight. This time, I slept tight - the life was doing it for me.

When I woke up, he wasn't there anymore. But there was Ukraine, towering over me and smiling.

"Glad you came back. I _really_ need to get laid." She started to unbutton her shirt and I thought what the hell, we might as well fool around one last time, but, fortunately, there was still enough blood left in my brain to stop her.

"No, Ekaterina. You just need a relationship. A two-sided one."

Following my words, she just stood there, eyes downcast, heart broken. I left.

What?! Stop judging me! Otherwise, I would have given in to the temptation once more. And that would have been even crueler.

I ran to the manor and peeked through the window. Just as expected, he was in the living room, contemplating himself in the mirror, trying the brand new coat on. That damn traitor was standing next to him, shaking despite himself, still trying to figure out what was going on. And a little further away was Eva, calm, but alert.

Ivan noticed me in the mirror, winked and took his leave.

Litva's eyes shining as they found Eva's, ready to kiss the ground she walked on. My little princess blushing, taking a deep breath and… Oh, wonderful timing. The deranged blonde enters the house that very second. Litva turning into a meek fanboy again, the bitch's presence completely flooding his senses. Eva's eyes widening in anguish, her teeth cutting deep into the plump lip. She's running upstairs.

I had done this a lot - set things (more or less subtly) to motion, then enjoyed the show from a safe distance. Even so, I just couldn't take any pleasure in _this_. Not if it included Eva's tears.

 _My poor little thing, don't you see?! He's not good enough for you. No one will ever be. It doesn't matter, though - I'm here now. To treasure you. To protect you. Make sure no one ever breaks your fragile heart again. So fear no more and let me love you…_

 _I should have at least brought her flowers,_ I thought as I sneaked into the house, aiming for her door. But, once there, I suddenly found myself unable to knock.

The room next to Eva's was empty. I entered and locked myself in, leaning against the wall that separated me from her. Slowly, I slid down into sitting.

Just as expected, she was crying her heart out. I'd heard her weep before, but this was different. Her sobbing was like music, a strange cacophony wild with pain, wrapping my body in shivers. I could almost feel her tears sinking into my skin, my blood, my flesh and bones, the salt in them burning me so much I just wanted to hide in a corner and cry, too.

She wasn't crying because of him. She was crying because of me.

 _I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I should never have left you here. I swear I didn't want to! I_ had _to. You must have been so lonely and scared. To the point of falling for the first man that showed you a little bit of affection. Luckily, I got back just in time. What a waste would it be to elope with_ him _!_

And she went on crying. My words didn't change a thing. How could they, unpronounced? Even if I whispered them directly in her ear, they probably wouldn't get far. Nothing could have reached her where she was.

 _Oh, how I wish I could have stayed here, my dear. Prevented all this. But what I did needed to be done. For our future. And so I can give you a choice. I know you'll understand eventually._

* * *

I must have dozed off. When I opened my eyes again, the room was painted orange with the now setting sun.

Eva's room had grown silent, just like the whole house. I showered and shaved, then put on some clean clothes and went to conquer her.

She didn't want to see me. Or talk to me. Let alone marry me. Actually, she didn't even want to open the door in the first place. I couldn't possibly hold any of that against her.

Then, we talked a bit and she ended up giving me one more chance. But what surprised me the most was that she negotiated the conditions of our union. She _negotiated_!

By the way, her jaw dropped when she saw the rings. Once we put them on, I got a hug and a very, very light kiss. I guessed that for her, it was already a big, brave step. So I was happy for that.

She let me sleep next to her. I kissed the top of her head.

Ramona was right - actions speak louder than words. Still… Perhaps I should have told her how I felt about her. That she was unique to me, my one and only. That I'd messed up before, but wouldn't again. That I wouldn't touch other women anymore. That I didn't want this to be just a convenience marriage - I wanted it to be a real one. I just didn't find it appropriate to say it all aloud. And Eva was a clever girl. I knew she'd figure it out on her own. We were meant for each other, after all.

"Am I still your little princess?" she murmured as she nestled up against me.

"No. You're my queen now."

 _There. That should do it._

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 48-_


	49. Chapter 49

_(A/N: Some listening for this chapter: Aha - Dark is the Night for All)_

* * *

 _Translations (it seems more practical to give them in advance):_

Zbohom buď (in Slovak) = Farewell (it literally means "be with God")

Nasedej, Evičko, do Prahy je cesta dlouhá (in Czech) = Jump in, my little Eva, it's a long way to Prague ( _Do Prahy je cesta dlouhá_ is a name and a beginning of a traditional Czech love song)

* * *

Eva gave the manor one last look. She couldn't help searching for Lithuania's window. Just as expected, he was nowhere to be seen.

"I'll go get your last bag, sweetheart."

Zbohom buď, _Toris Laurinaitis. And thank you. You did something I thought impossible - you made me believe in love again. And for that, I'll cherish you until the end of my days._

"Alright. We're good to go."

 _I just hope that someone will make you at least half as happy as you made_ me _for a while._

" _Nasedej, Evičko, do Prahy je cesta dlouhá."_

 _So I'm plain. Ordinary,_ Eva thought as she buckled up. _I don't stand out. All in all, it does not matter. Greatness is not bestowed upon everyone. It's not everyone's destiny to touch others' hearts, change others' lives._

"Didn't we forget anything?"

"Can't speak for you, my little girl. As for me, everything I've ever needed is right by my side."

"Eyes on the road, Hynek."

 _I am who I am. Maybe one day, someone will love me for that._

* * *

 _Didn't I forget anything?_ Raivis wondered as he grabbed the doorknob. It didn't seem so - he'd washed his hair, cleaned his ears, polished his shoes. He realized he was just playing for time. He shouldn't, though - the bouquet onto which he clutched, the one that he went through so much trouble to get - was slowly fading. _I'd better move it._

Eduard was right - he was turning into a man. His voice had already changed and he was now shaving, too! And, most important of all, he had finally outgrown _her_. Also, he now had enough money aside to pay them both a nice vacation somewhere in the south. That was, if she accepted his offer.

Yes, he was an adult now. The panicking and hiding away was over. He would finally stand tall and tell her how he felt.

As he reached out to knock on her door, he noticed it was open. He dared a peek inside. It was empty. Completely blank.

He walked in, looking for something, anything, just to make sure she wasn't just his dream, but there was nothing, nothing at all. The place was almost sterile; even the laundry basket was empty.

He sat down on the bed, his head full of questions never to be answered.

* * *

 _No. Not possible. Not after everything that happened,_ Eduard tried to reason with himself. But for the first time in his life, his reasoning capacities were letting him down. And he couldn't deny his nightmares were now turning into sweet dreams.

 _Out of question. She's just a woman._

But what a woman! One that put him in his place. _Him!_ He found that strangely appealing.

And yet, she was so calm and sweet. Someone he could count on. Someone who stimulated him physically as well as intellectually. Someone who still knew how to blush. What were the odds of finding a girl like that?

He didn't really know what to tell her, hoping that the right words would just come on their own one day. And they did.

Too bad the girl wasn't there anymore.

* * *

Toris could still feel her lips on his cheek after she kissed him goodbye. It was nothing like those light and carefree pecks he was used to receiving from her. This one was bittersweet, so bittersweet it hurt.

Their voices coming from the outside.

The sound of a car pulling out.

He couldn't bring himself to look.

 _Maybe she's left something behind,_ he thought. _A lipstick. A bookmark. Or her blanket._ He especially hoped for the blanket.

Still, as he entered what used to be her room, with the other two heartbroken Baltics sitting on what used to be her bed, he instantly knew that, even if she _had_ left something lying around, it would now be long gone.

"There's still a little bit of tea in the cupboard. Go make yourselves a cup."

He knew there was only enough for two servings; it didn't matter. It wouldn't ease _his_ pain anyway.

Instead, the brunet got into his car and drove.

* * *

 _(A/N: Māra is the highest-ranking goddess of Latvian mythology, something between Mother Earth and Virgin Mary._

 _Doïna = Moldova_

 _Grigore = Romania)_

* * *

Raivis missed the only woman who had always loved him and who always would. He missed her now more than ever.

He couldn't go home. And, even though she dwelt in everything that lived, from the tiniest insect to the strongest of oaks, he never felt her presence in that wretched place. That wretched place under that red flag. A flag soaked in so much blood.

Luckily, there was water. Water was ever changing and still the same, omnipotent and omnipresent. He ran himself a bath, stepped in and almost wept as she drew him into her loving embrace. He sank deeper, deeper yet into that warmth until his whole body lied underwater. And he realized he himself was mostly water and maybe if he stayed like that for long enough, he might just dissolve and be forever one with those arms that… those arms that…

Those arms that forced him out of the water.

For a while, he just sat there, blinking at that familiar womanly face.

"Ivan or brother?" she inquired.

Moldova's room had always been just across Latvia's. He knew all about her tics, her fits, her laughs and cries strangely close to each other. For several decades, she would come see him at improbable times, usually in the middle of the night, asking him the same question. He would never fail to give it a thought. Nothing good came out of hanging out with Ivan, but Grigore wasn't exactly a safe bet, either. He honestly didn't know. So he never replied. Until now.

"Doïna, I figured it out."

The girl froze.

"Imagine both of them were gone from your life for good. Which one would you miss? That's the one you should live with."

Today, Moldova is an independent country.

* * *

Eduard walked swiftly out of the house, headed for the lodge. He wanted no company. Despite that, when he found the long-gone Ekaterina stretched out limp on her bed, he didn't back away. Instead, he lied down next to her.

The Slav, who originally also needed to be alone, didn't mind, either. She looked at him from the corner of her eye and realized he was looking back. The same flustered face, the same broken heart, the same hopeless soul. It was more like staring into a mirror, really. Or like solitude, but in two.

And everything's more bearable when there's two of you.

* * *

Toris got to Palanga just in time to watch the sun sink into the sleepy sea. Every time the water washed out a shell, he stacked it onto one of his neat piles, not even looking up when a familiar presence took place next to him.

 _Forty-five. Forty-five lovely shells for forty-five years of being a brave boy in the white kingdom._

He reached into his pocket to retrieve another shell, an old one. He'd collected it in secret the day they visited the shore, in case he wouldn't be able to do the trip with her again. In case he found his way out of the kingdom and not her. It turned out to be the other way around.

 _Forty-six._ Toris put it in the last of the rows. _Not a year more._

"I once found a nice shell," he started after a while. "I thought it was ordinary, like any other shell. Then, I saw another, a beautiful one. I tried to take hold of it, but it turned out to be broken. It cut me. In the meantime, a wave washed over my other hand and the first shell floated away. I suddenly realized that was the one I truly wanted all along. But before I could do anything, someone else grabbed it and took it away."

Silence.

"Anyway, who knows?" the Lithuanian went on. "Maybe the tide will bring it back to me again some day. So I guess I should stay on the lookout. What do _you_ think?" he asked, at last turning to look at Feliks.

"I think you should take shell collecting less seriously."

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 49-_


	50. Chapter 50

**Her Place, 1944**

 _Feliks and Erszébet said they wanted my well-being. And that's exactly what they took._

 _Therefore, I don't see a single reason why pity them now that their plan backfired._

 _The problem is, it backfired on all of us._

 _Not only I still don't have my freedom, but things got even worse. Much worse._

 _Nobody will help me now. I need to help myself._

Eva found a box and went through every nook and cranny of the house. When she finished, the box was filled with all kinds of shotguns, gun shells and other things she couldn't even name, but looked dangerous.

 _Hynek has thought of everything. He was a good man. He would have protected us. And I've betrayed him._

 _If he gets back and agrees to marry me again, I'll make sure things between us work out._

 _But first things first._

She grabbed the box and headed for the nearby forest. Once she made sure no one was around, she started to rummage through all the illicit items. Since she had never so much as held a firearm before, she picked a random one and fiddled with it until she drew out a shot. And collapsed on the ground.

* * *

 _(A/N: Eva learnt the hard way that Feliks and Erzsébet didn't plan to return the territory they had taken from her.)_

* * *

The familiar sound made Ivan put his cup of tea down.

"Someone bothering you?" He looked at Katyusha. The woman shrugged, just as clueless as himself.

"I'll go check."

* * *

Eva caught her breath again. _I'm still alive. It was just a backfire. I should be used to things backfiring at me by now..._

But before she recovered from her shock, another one came by. This time in form of a giant menacing silhouette towering over her. Instinctively, she grabbed the gun that had landed next to her and, with both her trembling hands, trained it at the wild bear and pulled the trigger again and again. Nothing happened.

"It works better when it's loaded."

The brunette would have preferred a bear. At least with those, you knew what to expect.

"And it's too big for you anyway."

Eva, who got up and brushed the dirt off her clothes in the meantime, shielded her eyes from sunlight to have a better look at the man. He was a tall well-built blond, but didn't speak like a German, more like her. The stranger leaned over the box and went through its contents until he found what he wanted, then muttered something about compatible gun shells and unbuttoned his coat. The Slovak gasped. Whoever he was, he seemed to have more ammo on him than there was in her whole place.

"Now." She took the smaller semi-automatic he carefully handed her. " _Always_ check whether a gun is loaded. There is no 'probably'. Point it in a safe direction. Don't stand like this, more like _this,_ unless you're trying to shoot your leg. Also, try to..."

Half an hour later, Eva still didn't shoot like a pro, but wasn't so scared of handling a gun anymore.

"If you need more help, just come see me in Moscow."

"T-thank you." _This man might actually save us all,_ she thought. "For that purpose, can I have your good name, please?"

"Just ask for Ivan. Everyone will know."

* * *

 **His Place**

Eva thought Ivan was a pretty frequent name, to say the least, but indeed, the first Russian she ran into instantly pointed to the right direction. Before too long, she was standing in front of a lone manor in the outskirts of the capital. She took a deep breath and knocked.

He let her in purely out of politeness, regretting somewhat his offer. Until she explained whom she was fighting against.

"I don't have enough space here. My driver will take you to a hotel. And I only have time in the mornings before I go to work. Be ready tomorrow at five."

Ivan's house was half-empty and he had two free evenings per week. But he didn't want others thinking he was having an affair. His heart, protected by centuries-old ice, beat for his people and for them only.

* * *

"Of course, sir. I'll make it my priority."

"Hold on, Ivan." The leaving Russian turned back to his boss. "Since we're talking about priorities, find yourself a woman."

"I'm sorry, sir?" he asked after a second's hesitation.

"You've heard me. Find yourself a woman."

Despite not being an expressive person, Ivan Braginsky could feel one of his brows shoot up.

"I do. Regularly."

"I don't mean those you pick up and throw away the same night. I'm talking about a relationship."

Ivan blinked.

"I'm afraid I have neither time nor energy for such a thing, sir. And my heart beats only for -"

"Yes, for our people," the mortal interrupted. "I know. But they need a strong, healthy heart and the right woman can help you with that. _She_ will keep you strong and healthy. As I've already said, I'm not talking about those long-legged monsters who always keep bitching about something. They only make you grow bitter."

Right then, Ivan would have loved to turn around and leave. Unfortunately, he couldn't.

"You might be centuries old, but to me, you're still a boy in his twenties. So let me tell you - a healthy relationship works both ways. You share both time and energy. If you take care of your woman, she will take care of you. If you pick the right one, she might even help you with your work."

Silence.

"Find yourself a girl that doesn't need to wear high heels to get your interest. One that makes you feel good just by the way she is. That will bake you cakes. One that is calm, caring and understanding and still knows how to earn your respect."

Ivan said he understood and left. Once in a safe distance from the office, he let out a particularly loud snort. _A woman that will earn both my interest_ and _respect. Like that's ever going to happen. But if it does, dammit, I'll settle down with her._

* * *

"So, what will you do once the war is over, Mr. Russia?" Eva asked as they waited for their respective rides after their first lesson.

Ivan didn't reply. He never acknowledged silly teenagers' questions.

" _I_ dream of getting married," she chirped wistfully, oblivious to his silence.

 _Silly little dream of a silly little girl,_ Ivan thought.

Her car arrived. She shook his hand - she insisted on shaking his hand every day - and jumped in.

By then, the Russian had already noticed that her skin was as warm as sunshine. That she smelled like spring. That her hair was the same color as hot chocolate which he secretly preferred to vodka.

Thankfully, he had enough ice within him not to linger on such silly things.

* * *

When Ivan promised to train the girl, he had no idea what he was getting into. Before too long, he would regret his decision again. Not only she didn't have any fighting skills to speak of – she didn't have the right reflexes or instincts, either. War just didn't seem to be in her blood.

He was almost ready to send her back with some food, medication and money when he realized something interesting. Every time she went down to the ground, she would stand up again. Every single time. And he didn't go exactly easy on her. After one particularly rough training, she just lied there, covered all over in blood and, for a moment, Ivan thought she was done for. And then, slowly, she stood up, spat a few shattered teeth onto the floor and limped over to him. He stood firm, eager to find out what desperate deed she might attempt in her miserable condition, but all she wanted was to fix one of his muscles which he'd twisted earlier. Ivan didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Once, the girl invited him over to one of her secret guerilla camps and he realized yet another important thing – she had troops. Tens of thousands, actually. And they loved her. Because she ate with them, starved with them, laughed with them, suffered and cried with them, all the while keeping them safe in her forests which no one knew better than herself. And the things they did to those who weren't welcome…

He made a mental list of qualities a good war leader needed. Never letting go, keeping your men motivated and remembering who the true enemy was came up in the top five.

She melted his ice enough for him to summon the Red Army. So the silly little girl could live on and dream her silly little dreams. There was still hope, after all. Every day, he believed it more and more.

Until she screwed everything up.

* * *

Translations (in German)

Wo ist Mama? = Where is mommy?

Das weiss ich nicht, Schatzi = I don't know, darling

* * *

It wasn't that she was too rushed with the first attack. The clash was bound to happen sooner or later and doing it sooner might have been, in a way, more careful. What bothered him was that, at the moment of truth, she hesitated.

Ivan's army was still on its way when occupants entered Eva's lands. Her men stood there, restless and confused, every single one of them eyeing her face. Fight or retreat?

"What are you waiting for?" the Russian shouted at her. "Tell them to rise and stand their ground! Now!" Their little window of time was slowly disappearing.

And she just stood there, staring somewhere in the middle of the supposed battlefield.

"FIGHT!" he shouted at the soldiers, but they wouldn't listen. Not to him.

He turned to the Slovak again just to realize she wasn't there anymore. His gaze moved around and something caught his eye.

What he saw was a child, a little boy that looked like he'd just recently learnt to walk. Lost in the middle of a frenetic crowd, rivers of tears streaming down his face while he screamed something to the people around. How did he even get there?! Ivan estimated his life expectancy to three or four minutes.

And then, all of a sudden, there was the girl running towards him, grabbing him and not letting go until they were both in safety. Only then did she give her soldiers an order to fight. Except that, in the meantime, her men had already been pushed out of the way and disarmed.

The girl was not silly. She was completely empty-headed. And crazy.

"You are an idiot," he muttered under his breath, facing away from her.

"I beg your pardon?" She walked over to him, holding the little boy's hand.

"YOU'RE AN IDIOT!" He turned around and snapped in her face. "All the efforts, all this time, all the money that you've just THROWN AWAY! All that for a BRAT!"

The little fellow started to cry. Eva took him into her arms once again.

"You're scaring him," she said calmly to the Russian.

" _Wo ist Mama?"_ the little boy wept.

"What's more, it's a GERMAN! It's an ENEMY!" Ivan yelled, determined to get rid of the child. But, however enraged he was, he instantly retreated. The look Eva gave him suggested that if he were to move a step closer, she would jump on his face and tear out a generous piece of flesh with her bare teeth.

"He's not a German. He's not enemy. He's A CHILD!"

With that, she hugged the baby even closer, turned around and left.

" _Wo ist Mama?"_ Ivan could hear the boy whimper against the Slovak's chest.

" _Das weiss ich nicht, Schatzi, das weiss ich nicht."_

Ivan stared at them for a while, then paced the place back and forth, shaking his head, flapping his hands, cursing as loudly as he could. Anything not to hear the ice inside him breaking.

* * *

 **His Place, 1945**

Despite the fiasco, Eva went on fighting until the end of the War. In the long run, she accomplished what she'd promised herself.

Now it was his turn.

He thought long and hard about how to approach such a delicate subject. In the end, he decided to invite her over to Moscow and leave her in the hands of his best teachers. And once she'd come of age, they would talk like an accomplished man and an accomplished woman. Still, he had his doubts.

He turned to Toris who had just brought him tea.

"Lithuania, would you go out with me?"

The poor Baltic was so shocked he dropped the tray. Ivan always tortured him in every possible way, so he knew he had some kind of thing about him, but _this_ kind of thing?! He wasn't sure whether he could deal with that.

"Err… That is to say that I… I mean that... "

"I do admit my question lacked precision. What I wanted to know is, if you were a woman, or - why not? - if _I_ was one, would you date me?"

That didn't help Toris in any way. And whatever his reply, it would only get him deeper into trouble.

"Actually… errr… I'll clean up this mess, if you allow me!" he managed.

Ivan let him go. There was no good reason why she would refuse him. She even said herself she was dreaming of getting married. And he was one of the most desired bachelors in the world.

He wondered whether he should call her. In the meantime, the brunet came back with the mail. He quickly ran through it.

"Only bills and arrest warrants again… Don't we _ever_ get anything cheerful?" he sighed.

The Lithuanian thought for a while.

"There might be something. It has just got in." He left and got back again, handing the Russian a parcel just to disappear again. There was a letter glued to it. As soon as Ivan saw where it was coming from, he swiftly tore the envelope apart and unfolded the letter.

' _Dear Mr. Russia,_

 _I can never thank you enough for all your help. Please do come visit us at any time you like. You will be most welcome._

 _I'm sending you something to sweeten your day._

 _Kind regards,_

 _E. K.'_

Ivan took it as a sign and dialed her number.

"Mr. Russia! Such a pleasure to hear from you! Did you get the cake?"

 _She has baked me a cake._ He smiled. _Talk about perfection._

"I did. Thank you. Also, there is something I wanted to tell you."

"Did you get it alright? I've sent it by a special plane. Is it still in good shape?" she asked worriedly. He opened the box to confirm.

"Don't worry. It's flawless."

"Thank heavens! But I interrupted you. I believe you had something to tell me?"

"Indeed. I wanted to personally congratulate you."

"Thank you very much! That's so thoughtful! I hope everything is well in Kremlin."

Ivan found an excuse to cut the conversation short and hung up. After that, he went over to the fireplace and threw the box into the flames.

And then, he just stood there, watching the slice of wedding cake melt, wishing he still had enough ice inside him not to linger on such silly things.

But he didn't.

* * *

 **His Place, 1989**

"If someone comes looking for me, I'm not in," Ivan told the absent-minded Kyrgyzstan dusting furniture in the hallway.

The Russian locked his door and reached under his coat to retrieve the blanket he'd found in the laundry room. Only then did he notice the package on his bed. He put his keepsake carefully aside and undid the wrapping, revealing a familiar green summer dress and a bottle of morphine pills. There was also a note. ' _For when it all gets too much',_ it read.

Ivan's eyes counted the pills - roughly two dozens. He suspected his plan wouldn't work even if he had hundreds; he just wasn't enough of a human. But it was worth a try.

He stuffed the dress with the blanket, then emptied the bottle into his mouth.

"Eva Braginskaya," he purred, cuddling closer. "My fairy queen."

He kissed her goodnight and drifted to slumber.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 50-_

* * *

 _-END OF PART 2-_

* * *

 **See you soon for the part 3 (which will be very short)!**


	51. Chapter 51

**HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE! :)**

 **So, here goes the part 3. It will cover years from 1989 to 1993 and there will be little historical facts. Expect approximately three chapters.**

* * *

 **PART 3**

 **Prague, 1989**

It felt good to be home again. November at our place was almost as warm as April in Moscow.

We took turns behind the steering wheel _(Since when does she drive?!)_. After we arrived, she cooked; I washed the dishes. Each of us did half of the paperwork. I liked the new sharing policy.

It was getting late and she disappeared in the bathroom. I headed for the master bedroom, slipped under the sheets and waited. She was taking her time. Was it for me? I found the idea strangely exciting.

At last, she entered. To my deception, she didn't look groomed at all, perfectly laid-back in that baggy old pajamas she loved so much.

"Here it is!" she exclaimed and grabbed the bag which I had brought in for her. "I've been looking everywhere! Alright now, I'm dead tired. Have a good night's sleep," she purred and headed out of the room.

 _Wait, what?!_

"Eva, hold on."

She turned around.

"What's wrong?"

"I… kinda… thought we could…" All of a sudden, I had trouble speaking. "You know… _share_ this bedroom," I finally choked out. She blinked, then burst out laughing.

"And why on Earth would we do that?! We're not slaves anymore. This whole house is ours. If you really want to stay here, I don't mind taking another room."

With that, she grabbed her luggage and left, the disheveled hair flowing behind her like a proud flag.

 _I suppose we're not sharing everything, then._

* * *

I wondered a lot about her. _She must realize this is not a game like our previous marriages. Yes, surely she's aware of that. She's a clever girl._

Although I kept telling myself that, my doubts grew stronger with every day. She talked to me a lot about work, explaining what she was doing, asking about what I was up to. On the other hand, from the personal point of view, she kept her distance. I had a right to a hug once in a while, maybe a feathery kiss on the cheek when she was in good mood, but soon, it became too little. Can you imagine how frustrating it was?! I could have any woman, _any_ woman in the world. Except my own wife.

Through it all, I tried to understand. I thought she must still be pained from the heartbreak she had gone through back in Moscow. I decided to give her time.

A year or so later, she started to shop for food strangely often. Even though I liked having fresh meat, fruit and cheese three times a week, I thought it must be pretty time-consuming. I suggested we pay for a delivery service. She just shook her head and said she didn't mind.

One day, I was having a meeting not far away from the marketplace. We finished early, so I thought that I'd pick Eva up and help her get the groceries home, maybe even buy her a nice gift on the way.

The place was swarming with people, but soon enough, I found her. And, at last, I understood why she loved shopping so much.

He was handsome, I had to admit. Charming, too. He knew his way around women, that much was for sure. No wonder she forgot all about her Baltic crush.

"How do you like it?" he asked in a silky voice, watching Eva take a bite of a perfectly ripe peach, eyes closed in bliss.

"It's… delicious," she breathed.

"Just… a drop here." With a perfectly calculated movement, he brushed a bead of juice off her chin. I hadn't seen her blushing like that since 1946.

"How much do I owe you?" she managed once she'd finally emerged from the trance.

"Oh, I can't possibly charge a girl with such mesmerizing eyes. Do come back, Miss."

 _Missus_ , I mentally growled. She lowered her gaze, blushing even harder (if possible), gave him a timid smile and left.

 _Women. Do they ever learn?! Alright, change of plans._

I stayed a bit longer, and, just as expected, a while later, he was doing the exact same thing with another girl.

"'Scuse me." I pushed her aside, facing the young merchant.

"Please don't be rude towards a lady, sir," he said. I felt my blood slowly heat up.

"Listen, you prick, -"

"No need to be so rude, sir." He smiled amicably. I felt like smashing his face with a crowbar.

"The girl you've seen earlier -"

"Which one?"

"The one with green eyes. She's -"

In the meantime, his new victim left, so he probably felt free to act naturally again.

"Dude, do I look like the kind of guy that pays attention to eyes?" He gave out a stupid laugh, pissing me off even more. "Try describing her tits."

For a while, my mind wondered to Eva's breasts. Well, they were nice, full and firm and - _Wait, that's none of his business!_

"You'd better show more respect when you're talking about my wife!" I yelled. A few other customers turned around to stare at me. He calmed them with a reassuring smile.

"Then you really must be one shitty husband," he hissed. "She just accepted to go out with me tonight. Don't worry though, I'll show her what a true man is." He winked. My fingers were itching to strangle him. Oh, how much I wished that conversation was taking place in a dark alleyway. But we were in the middle of a crowd and all I could do was grind my teeth.

I told him to be careful, that he was playing with fire. He sneered and I left.

I could have stalked him. Taught him a lesson. Broken a rib. Or two. But I needed something more radical. So I called an old "friend" of mine and, just as expected, he offered a wonderful solution. I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of that right away.

* * *

"Fancy a cocoa?" I handed her a cup. Strong and sweet, just the way she liked it. I was about to add some vanilla extract, when I remembered something. I added cinnamon instead.

"Why not?" She shrugged with a small smile and had a sip. "It works," she then mumbled to herself, suddenly smiling much wider. I asked her what that was about, but she just shook her head in dismissal.

Anyway, by then, my little girl had already realized the date was not happening. She untied the hairdo she'd been working on the whole afternoon and removed the little jewels she had on. We turned on the brand new TV, snuggled under a blanket and watched folks from USSR declaring independence (it is rumored that, in order for Ivan to accept their declaration, they served him some kind of special tea). And I forgave Litva. Maybe it was all just one big coincidence, after all.

Despite the nice and relaxed evening, I caught her glancing at the phone from time to time.

 _No, darling. He won't come. And he won't call, either. There are no phones where he is now._

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 51-_


	52. Chapter 52

After that, she let me into her life a bit more. She told me a secret and, seeing that I was a good listener, she shared some more. She smiled at me more. She cooked more often the things I liked. She let me hug her more often. And I thought that, maybe, after all, I _did_ stand a chance. I just needed to do it the right way. Wait for the right occasion.

 _Of course. Her coming of age!_ Her birthday was just a few days away; I needed to act quick.

I didn't sleep much, had to promise a lot and reach really, really deep inside my pocket, but in the end, I prepared the most amazing surprise night out.

The morning of the D-day, I got up at sunset to make sure everything would be perfect. As I got back in the middle of the afternoon, I found Eva napping on the table, her hair bathing in the untouched supper.

She almost jumped as I woke her up, then ran around, panicking. It turned out she got up only a few minutes after I'd left so she could do all the chores and tasks our boss had given her. Apparently, she wasn't even halfway finished. I suggested we should go out that night anyway. She just sighed and said that, by then, she'd be ready to drop.

I didn't want to give up just like that. So, after lots of insisting, I convinced her to have a rest while I took care of everything. I did. Well, later I found out that I'd sent the urgent memo to the Spanish embassy rather than the Portuguese one (the languages sounded the same to me), that nylon didn't necessarily need to be ironed (I bought her another swimsuit… and another iron) and that "the one that looks like mud" wasn't an appropriate term when buying tea, but it's the intention that counts!

Eva was perfectly right - when I finished, I was done up. Despite that, I had a quick shower, got dressed and went to pick up the birthday girl. Who just told me she was far more comfy on the couch than anywhere else in the whole wide world. I was way too tired to insist. And, all in all, it was her day. So I gave up and we just lied side by side, chatting until it was time to go to bed.

Having paid for the party, I had no money left to buy a gift. Still, there was something I could and wanted to give her.

As I got back from Britain and rummaged through the ruins of what used to be our house, I found her old linden leaf brooch. The one I got her the day she turned ten. It was unbelievable! Not only she still had it; she had also taken perfect care of it. She understood metal the way I understood wood. But the day she was kidnapped, she had to leave it behind. Such antiquity was now worth a fortune, so she probably didn't even dream about finding it again.

I remembered the day I gave it to her for the first time - a thousand years ago! The day I chided her for kissing me on the mouth. This time, I wasn't going to chide her...

Mostly because there was nothing to chide her for.

Eva squeaked in pure joy as she opened the jewel box, sat down in front of her mirror and tried to put it on. I reached out to help her, my wrists brushing lightly against her velvety skin. I nuzzled her hair (she smelt so heavenly!) and my racing heart was all I could hear. She turned around and I closed my eyes, ready to receive… a peck on the cheek?!

"Thank you so much! I really had a lovely time. See you tomorrow, sleep well."

 _Wait, what the hell just happened?!_ I wondered on the way back to my room. Then, suddenly, I figured it out. She just followed what I'd thought her when she was younger - that kisses on the mouth are unacceptable between siblings. Except for the marriage sealing, but that was a country thing. I'd drilled that into her head, given her a mental block. Right then, I hated past me so very much.

I went to bed, but sleep didn't come. I just couldn't stop thinking about it. I couldn't believe it was that simple. _How can she still see me as her sibling?_ I marvelled. _She's old enough to understand things are more intricate now. That if a grown man marries a grown woman, they are supposed to be a couple. What is her problem?!_

She was no fool. And, being a girl, she also had that mysterious sixth sense. She _knew_ , I was positive she knew.

 _Are you playing hard to get? Or it might be you just don't understand how to do things properly._ _No problem, sweetheart. I'll teach you._

In my head, I repeated over and over the words I was going to say to her. _Eva, we're husband and wife now. Do you know what a wife is supposed to do? She's supposed to cherish her husband. Respect him. And please him._

Maybe she wouldn't want at first, I realized. But it didn't matter. I'd kiss her in the most tender way, tease every bit of her body until she begged me to touch her properly. By the end of the night, I would have rocked her world in so many ways that it wouldn't even cross her mind to see me as a brother.

I gave her door a quick, light knock and entered.

* * *

 _-END OF CHAPTER 52-_


	53. Chapter 53

I gave her door a quick, light knock and entered the room. And stopped in my tracks when I noticed her eyes were wide open, smiling at me just like her lips did.

"I'm glad you came back," she whispered. I lied down next to her. I couldn't believe it. Was it really happening? Had she finally accepted me as her man?

"I've just had a horrible nightmare." She hid her face in my chest. _Oh. So that's what you meant._

I sighed, wrapped my arms around her and stroked her forehead and hair, the way I used to when she was a kid. There was no way in hell I'd force my little angel into anything. Ever.

"I'm so happy to have you in my life," she mumbled affectionately.

' _...Brother'_ , I mentally added. _She's right. It's always good to have one._

 _Alright, then. Brother and sister. If that is what you want, so be it. I'll find a way to live with it._

* * *

I had an early morning meeting. When I got back, she wasn't in the house anymore. She left me a meal in the fridge and a note that she wasn't getting back before late evening. I knew it was just a note, but something about it felt strangely cheerful. And her food was just exquisite. I gathered she must be happy.

The time had come to take care of my own happiness.

* * *

It was getting dark, so I aimed for the bathroom to shower and get myself ready. Once I got out again to find some clothes, I realized the earlier light rain had turned into a rather violent storm. It made me think of Eva, how, on such nights, she would often sneak into my room, asking whether she could sleep by my side. Like I would ever say no to her.

 _What if she gets scared tonight as well, but nobody's here to reassure her?_

 _Whatever. She's an adult now,_ I concluded. _Time to learn to face her own fears and problems. As for me, I need a woman. Tonight._

I was glad to find out that I hadn't lost anything of my skills. Before too long, I was getting home with a cutie by each side. They laughed and clutched me close, a naughty touch here, a burning kiss there. I guided them to my room. As we got upstairs, the girls stopped in their tracks.

Eva was standing at my door. Even though it was February, she only had a rather light nightgown on. I thought she had to be cold, but by then, I'd already given up any hope of understanding her logic.

The girls looked at her, then at me.

"What's wrong with you, ladies?" I laughed. "Did a cat get your tongues? Won't you say hi to my little _sister_?"

"Hi!" they exclaimed in unison, relaxed again.

Eva said nothing. I gave her a begging look. _Please don't ruin this,_ I silently implored.

"Hello and good night! Have fun with _brother_!" she sang and watched us disappear in my room.

 _That was close. Wait, was that lipstick on her mouth?_ I blinked. _Of course not. She doesn't even know what that is. She probably just spent her evening stuffing herself with the raspberry candies she liked so much. Or whatever._ I didn't really give it a lot of thought. I had better things to do. Like the two beautiful women undressing each other on my bed.

* * *

It was indeed a long, long night – I had two years and three months to catch up on. Girls left at dawn; they were sore. Needless to say I was sorer.

The day was just as stormy as the one before, so I stayed in bed a bit longer. At around four in the afternoon, I finally got out of my room, treated myself to a full English, showered, then retreated to the office to deal with some easy paperwork. The sound of rain was slowly cradling me, making my eyelids grow still heavier. Until a resolute knock on the door woke me up.

She didn't even wait for a reply, just marched directly in.

"Morning, sweetheart." I smiled.

"Good evening, _brother,_ " she replied coldly and slapped a bunch of sheets on my desk.

"Yeah, evening," I admitted and laughed. She didn't laugh with me. I thought a bad thing must have happened, that it probably had to do something with the mail she'd just brought in. I glanced at it and blinked. Divorce papers.

I wasn't blind. I knew there were problems. But a divorce? _A divorce?!_

I thought it was a joke. Or her way of asking for attention. I mentally mocked her. Then, conscious she truly meant it, I tried to talk to her. She told me it was too late to talk. That things weren't working out from the beginning and there was no way they would now.

So I simply refused to sign. Said I'd do anything to show her I cared, all she had to do was ask.

"Sign it," she asked.

I signed.

 _This is ridiculous. It isn't over, this isn't goodbye,_ I thought as I watched her do her bags. Once she was done, I loaded them into my car. The least I could do was give her a ride.

"On second thoughts, I've always preferred travelling light," she said, turned around and started on feet.

I wasn't going to beg her. But the whole thing just didn't feel right.

"Eva." I took a hold of her shoulder. She walked on. " _Společně -_ "

"No, Czechia," she interrupted without even looking back at me. She never called me that name. "It's better this way."

I didn't insist.

 _So, this is it. This is how you leave me after more than a millennium together. No hug, no "thank you for everything", not even "bye bye". I'm not shit to you, am I?_

 _Of course I'm not. But it was easier to stay by my side until you come of age. I was a good bodyguard, wasn't I? Be that as it may, you're big now, so go your own way. Live your own life. Be a sovereign country. Whatever._

I watched her disappear on the horizon, walking tall through the falling rain. She walked all the way from Prague to Bratislava, then toured her place.

 _Lightning strikes our mighty Tatras tempest shaken_

 _Lightning strikes our mighty Tatras tempest shaken_

 _Stand we fast friends of mine_

 _storms will pass, sun will shine_

 _Slovaks shall awaken._

I heard her chant the song I'd written for her decades ago. Her children sang along.

She wasn't afraid of the storm anymore.

* * *

I went through denial, then got caught up in a long angry phase.

She struggled with the political aspect of our separation. No wonder – she didn't have that much experience as a sovereign state. I could have mentored her, but I didn't. I let her deal with her own shit, so she'd realize what being independent truly meant.

She tried to make up with me – I didn't answer her calls, refused to see her, limited our business meetings to minimum. Sometimes, when we ran into each other, I'd just pretend I didn't see her or say I was busy. And she went on trying.

Until, all of a sudden, I came to terms with it all. She'd grown up and fighting for independence was natural at that age. That's what I was trying to teach her the whole time, wasn't I? I shouldn't have borne a grudge; I should have been proud.

So we fixed things. Made peace and toasted to our respective futures. She even helped me find lovers for the night. She convinced me that, maybe one day, I would fully forgive her.

Months later, I was about to receive a few visitors, so I decided to clean up the guest room a little bit. As I entered, I realized Eva must have slept there on her last night in the house. I shrugged and bent over to empty the bin.

The first thing I noticed was plenty, _plenty_ of crumpled paper tissues. Some were fragile as if previously damped, some covered with lipstick stains. I caught a glimpse of something else right beneath. I removed all the handkerchiefs and retrieved some lacy tissue. It turned out to be feminine underwear. Fine lingerie, deep green with a leaf pattern, a bit of a see-through, nothing vulgar, just enough to tickle a man's imagination. I reached deeper inside the bin. At the bottom lied a matching silk nightgown. The one I saw her wearing that night.

And it hit me right between the eyes.

She loved me. She always had. And not just as a brother.

Back when she was fifteen and I explained all about sex, she asked me whether I was a respectful lover. She already liked the idea of making love with me. She just needed to grow up a bit. So, however unwillingly, she accepted that, in the meantime, I'd see other women.

On the night of our third wedding, she waited for me in my bed. To tell me I already had her heart and that now, she'd like me to have her body, too. But I spent the night with someone else, then got home and collapsed next to her, hungover and smelling of the person she liked the least.

It was only understandable that she decided to test me when we got back together in 1989. She took her time and she had every right to do so. Until she started to trust me again. And that day, in her eyes, I became the worthy first lover I'd told her about decades ago.

She bought lovely clothes, made herself pretty and waited for me to get home. To show me how she truly felt about me. To seduce me. Give me her innocence and everything else she had.

And I entered the house with two strangers, aiming straight for my room. Which was next to hers. I didn't even show her enough respect to do those two somewhere else.

Our bed, our house, our love - I tainted them all. Irreversibly. No wonder the next day, she left.

Eva gives lots of people a chance. But just one. Per lifetime.

Few are those who got a second one.

I, Hynek Kučera, was lucky enough to get three. And I've blown them all.

This wasn't about politics, economy, power or money. She couldn't care less about those things. This was all about her pride that had got seriously hurt. And her heart that I'd smashed to pieces. For the third time. She decided three was all she could take.

I buried my face in the nightgown (I didn't dare touch the underwear). Her smell still lingered on it.

And, for the first time in centuries, I allowed myself to cry.

* * *

1st January 1993. The first day of the two of us being officially single. We had a few announcements to make before starting the celebration. I walked outside to get some fresh air.

I can't quite tell _how_ I knew. The place had changed so much. But there was something _so_ familiar all around... The way the ground felt under my feet. The way the wind brushed against my face. The way the leafless trees stood there, recognizing me from the stories of their grandfathers. It was there that I first met her.

 _She was in charge of picking a spot for today. Though it might be just a coincidence,_ I thought as I entered the little that was still left of the forest.

"Looking for the berries?" a gentle voice from behind my back teased.

 _No coincidence, then._

I didn't turn around. I would have burst into tears for sure.

"They have been long extinct now, you know?" She walked over. I still couldn't face her.

"I've never thanked you for saving my life back then," I said to the mushy snow wetting my shoes.

"Well, you've been saving mine ever since."

She reached out to adjust my tie, then raised my chin. Our eyes locked for a while. We both had our military uniforms on. She looked so beautiful and unreachable, the way she'd always looked to me. The only woman I had ever truly wanted; the only one I could never have.

"What is it?" She smiled. There was so much I wanted to say, but I just didn't find the words.

"Nothing." I shook my head, smiling back. "Just that… that I'm so proud of you. I'm so proud of what you've become."

"Well, as I said, I would never be here today if it weren't for you. So be proud of both of us."

She hugged me. I hugged back. We both did it as delicately as possible, careful not to break that fragile line between the brother and the sister we now were. Once she couldn't see, a lone tear ran down my cheek. I didn't bother wiping those off anymore. One day, time would dry them all.

"You're right. I _am_. I'm proud of both of us," I whispered in her ear. She chuckled sweetly.

"And the best is yet to come!"

* * *

-THE END-

* * *

 **(Alternative ending in next chapter)**


	54. Alternative Ending

**Alternative ending. Because we all deserve one.**

* * *

 _Mint leaves. Freshly chopped wood._ Eva sighed. _And something else, too…_

She felt happy like never before. So completely, perfectly happy.

He took good care of her, listened to her, made sure she didn't want for anything. And since they got married, he had been a textbook husband. He had always been there for her. To give her a choice and a pair of loving arms to wrap herself in. Always home before midnight. Never smelling of another woman.

There was just one thing - she was worried what would happen once she'd come of age. That he would come see her, asking her to fulfill her duties as a wife. But he didn't. He just lied down next to her and stroked her hair. His touch was chaste, not bitter-flavored with that insistence and hungry expectation that had always been there before. The hunter in him was gone. Reassured, she relaxed and thought of the good things in life until his caresses cradled her to sleep.

And when Eva woke up next day, after two years and three months, she finally removed the scissors from under her pillow.

She hid her face in the pajama top he'd left in the bathroom. _Mint and wood, indeed. And… Yes._ Something she smelt back when she was six and he slept by her side for the first time. Throughout the whole Prague Spring. And every time she found him wounded in the lodge.

 _Cake. A hint of cake._

 _I'll tell him tonight._

* * *

It was getting late, so I aimed for the bathroom to shower and get myself ready. Once I got out again to find some clothes, I realized the earlier light rain had turned into a rather violent storm.

It made me think of Eva, how, on such nights, she would often sneak into my room, asking whether she could sleep by my side. Like I would ever say no to her.

 _What if she gets scared tonight as well, but nobody's here to reassure her?_

I didn't like the idea. Maybe she didn't need me anymore, maybe she never truly had, but should she crave a comforting presence while lightnings struck our lands, I wanted to be there for her. _During the last two years and three months, I stayed at home for every single night. I can handle one more,_ I reckoned, putting my pajama trousers on. For some reason, I couldn't find the top.

Just as I expected, minutes later, I heard a knock on my door. I let her in. Even though it was February, she only had a rather light nightgown on. I thought she had to be cold, but by then, I'd already given up any hope of understanding her logic.

"Still afraid of the thunder?" I teased, then went on looking for the pajama.

"No. I'm not afraid anymore," she replied. I went through the whole room, yet couldn't for the love of God find the missing piece of clothing.

And she just stood there, as if waiting for something.

"So, how was your day?" I asked.

"It was…" She took a deep breath. "It was a good day. I bought… some clothes."

That explained the nightie. I glanced at her.

"Lovely. Goes with your eyes."

"Really? You… think so?" she said in a strangely thrilled, expectant tone. I ignored her question, just opened my wardrobe and rummaged in it, trying to find the damned pajama or something as a replacement.

"Actually, that's not all I bought."

"Good to know," I replied abstractedly, trying to decide whether to do some paperwork or just have a drink and go to sleep.

"Want to see?"

I finally found a clean T-shirt. _That would do,_ I decided, then slid the door towards myself to close the wardrobe. And froze, staring in shock.

My wardrobe was a mirror-covered one. Not that it had ever mattered. Not until then. Not until my most precious fantasy suddenly came true.

In the mirror I saw Eva, wearing nothing but a beautiful set of deep-green lingerie, the lace perfectly hugging and bringing out each one of her curves. For a while, I almost forgot to breathe. She looked… No, there are no words to describe it. But if I had to try, it would be… dreamy. Stunning. Ravishing. Out of this world.

I turned around to face her, my mouth still parted.

"So… what do you think?!" she urged. "Does it… fit?"

I slowly walked towards her, my eyes studying her from head to toe again and again. Every bit of her was so dazzling I didn't even know where to look first. Before I could realize, we were just a few centimeters from each other. Suddenly, she turned away.

"You… You don't like it," she mumbled, looking around in anguish, trying to remember where she'd thrown the nightgown. "I… I'm so sorry…"

"Eva," I whispered.

She just went on searching.

"Eva," I repeated, this time more tenderly, cupping her face. She finally looked up, plunging her eyes into mine. And I froze once again. _Why?_ you're probably wondering. She was there, in my arms, ready to let me where no one had ever been. I'd wanted that for decades. All in all, it was the only thing I'd ever truly wanted.

Except now that it finally happened... it didn't feel right. I didn't deserve it.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her confused gaze piercing through me. I couldn't bring myself to hold it any longer.

"Eva, I..." I sighed helplessly. "I'm not worthy."

"Why?" she purred, blinking. "What do you mean?"

"I... I... I'm a scoundrel. A skirt-chaser. A liar. A drunkard. A bar fighter. And much more."

"I know." She smiled. "But nobody's perfect. I recently got into a few fights myself - outwarding the anger from time to time feels amazing. Also, I drink much more than you know. I tell half-truths a lot, too. And I have more dirty thoughts than anyone can possibly fathom." At the last words, her cheeks reddened somewhat. Yet I still couldn't bring myself to face her properly.

"I've hurt you before, Eva. I've humiliated you. Disrespected you." It was strange to say it aloud, get it off my chest. Not the worst feeling, I had to admit. And, to my surprise, she just went on smiling.

"I know. On second thoughts, we weren't really a couple, were we? Besides, I've done you harm, too," she admitted. I didn't bother asking what she meant. I knew I would forgive her. I would forgive her _anything_.

"The boy from the market..." I tried to say.

"Oh, _that_?" she snorted. "That was just a test."

"And I failed it. I had him shipped to Siberia."

I expected her face to darken, but it lit up even more.

"I know! And it's good thing, too!" she beamed. "He got a few girls from the neighborhood with a baby, then pretended he'd never met them."

"And with Toris... I knew you had a crush on him. It was all my fault it didn't work out." I felt self-conscious like never before. But she needed to know. She _deserved_ to know. "I was afraid he'd steal you away from me. So I made Natalia come back and distract him."

Her eyes widened and she bit her lip, thinking hard. Clearly she didn't know _that_. Only then did I realize what an indescribably selfish, ugly move that was.

"It's the worst thing I've ever done to anyone in my whole life. I beg your pardon, Eva."

I wished she would tell me off, slap me, anything. Just not stay silent like she did.

"I guess it was for the best," she concluded at last. "If he's so easy to distract, then maybe there's a problem." She shrugged, eyeing me lovingly again.

"As if it wasn't enough, I almost forced myself on you last night."

"But you didn't. That's what counts."

I couldn't believe it.

"Please, don't you see?! I'm just no good!" I moaned, desperate.

"Ever since we've met, you've been doing everything to protect me and give me a good life. You've even changed the course of history. Several times. For _me._ "

I wondered how she'd found out. Women always find out - how do they do that?! I was dying to know. But there was something much more important going through my head that very moment.

"Eva… now I finally see that… It wasn't about protecting you, taking care of you. It was about trying to control you. To show all those arrogant superpowers that they better keep their hands off me because I'm just as good as them. A wicked game to keep myself alive and safe. It has never been about giving you a choice; it was all about giving one to _myself_. I'm so, _so_ sorry, Eva."

I hid my face in shame. It was becoming too much.

"Don't say that. You've had your limbs broken, your back battered over and over. You've given me all you had. And right now you did something I've always longed for – you were honest with me. Instead of taking advantage of me, you came clean and set things straight. At last, you perceived me and treated me as an equal. I know you are a good person. I knew it the second I first saw you."

She reached out towards me and removed my hands, her small thumbs wiping off the tears I just couldn't hold in.

My mind wandered back to the day _I_ first saw her – that special day when everything changed. The moment felt a lot like it – she was standing in front of me, sweet, innocent, full of good will and hope, saving me from myself once again. I should never have hidden things from her. _The truth prevails. It always does._

"And I couldn't care less about what others think. I love you, Hynek Kučera."

A beautiful angel. A beautiful angel that loved me. I thought that if, through it all, she _still_ loved me, I must have been doing something right.

I leaned in and brushed my lips against hers, then tenderly pressed them together. Eva seemed startled. I pulled away just enough so I could look at her, but she didn't let me. Instead, she drew me into another kiss. A deep, ardent one. She didn't seem quite sure how to do it, so I showed her. Soon, we were kissing like there was no tomorrow. She tasted just like I'd always imagined - raspberries and lemon balm.

I noticed her palms reaching out towards me, then retreating over and over. It was obvious she wanted to touch me, but couldn't figure out where and how. I took hold of her hand, running it all over my bare chest. She seemed to appreciate my muscles, moaning lightly into the kiss.

My lips traveled down her chin, her throat, her collarbone. That was when she stopped me.

"Hynek?"

"Mmm?" I looked up to face her again.

"If I let this happen, it will be just you and me, forever, right? No one else, right?"

"There's never been anyone else, Eva. Just my futile and clumsy attempts to replace you."

She relaxed again, burying her fingers in my hair to pull me towards her neckline, her way of asking me to resume my earlier activities.

"Then let's take all these useless clothes off."

* * *

"I've always hoped it would be you," she breathed as I gently made love to her that night. I must have done it a million times, but never before had it felt like that.

Oh, how heavenly she looked. Hair mussed and sweaty, cheeks dusted pink, lips like rose petals. And those eyes, those breathtaking green eyes, she had them only for me.

And I knew that if I were to die that very moment, I would go without regrets.

I would have lived a beautiful life.

* * *

-THE END-

* * *

 **Writing this was a wonderful journey. Thank you for making it with me.**


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